


A House Built with Many Stones

by JustAnotherGhostwriter



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: All I want for Christmas is the ability to write short things (please help me), Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - White Lotus Rebel Leader Refugee Zuko, Attempt at Aang getting a better chance at a character growth arc, Azula (Avatar) Redemption, Canon-Typical Violence, For which she gets support and time to heal, Found family flung literally everywhere, Gen, No Beta We Die Like Cabbages, Non-Linear Narrative, Stop Vilifying Bloodbending 2k20, The Gaang Learns How Zuko Got The Scar (Avatar), Vague mentions of Azula's canonical mental health issues, Vague mentions of canonical deaths of minor unnamed characters, Vague mentions of child abuse by Ozai
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-14
Updated: 2020-12-21
Packaged: 2021-03-11 03:21:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 31,920
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28078365
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JustAnotherGhostwriter/pseuds/JustAnotherGhostwriter
Summary: Or: The father Zuko acquired, the five siblings who adopted him, and the one blood tie he fought to claim back.In an effort to spare his nephew many years of pain, Iroh orders that nobody tell Zuko of Ozai’s cruel, empty promise that Zuko could return to the Fire Nation if he captured the presumed-lost Avatar. Zuko growing up thinking he has no way home changes a lot. And also changes nothing at all.
Relationships: Azula & Zuko (Avatar), Iroh & Zuko (Avatar), The Gaang & Zuko (Avatar)
Comments: 68
Kudos: 374
Collections: A:tla, ATLA Winter Solstice 2020





	1. Iroh

**Author's Note:**

  * For [mistrali](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mistrali/gifts).



> When I read that part in MuffinLance’s _Towards the Sun_ where Zuko yells at Iroh for not telling him there was another choice besides capturing Aang, my brain went, “But what if he had?” and then immediately jumped to, “but what if Iroh had presented ‘the other choice’ as the _only_ choice, not even telling Zuko about the ‘capture the Avatar’ clause Ozai threw in?” The half-baked idea rattled around in my head a lot until I got the prompt for this exchange, and then it began to take shape. As with many things that have existed in your head for a while, the actual manifestation of it in reality feels somewhat lacking. Maybe I’ll revisit this idea in another way, someday. Maybe it will simply remain one of those ‘seemed better in my imagination’ things. Heaven knows there are a lot of those on this A03. 
> 
> Just to make it a little bit more complicated, because I get weird about trying new narration styles and the like every now and then, this fic isn’t 100% in chronological order. Each person has their events with Zuko in chronological order, but their stories interweave enough you’ll be reading some aftermath things before you read about the event. It shouldn’t be too confusing, but I added in the numbers just to help people keep track of events in case I made it hopelessly convoluted for no reason other than experimentation. 
> 
> The Iroh and Zuko Air Temple scene was heavily inspired by/stolen from Aeoleus, who is amazing and who deserves to have all her fic read at once. (This particular bit is from _The Sins of the Father_.) 
> 
> Mistrali, may you have an amazing holiday season. And may this fic fit what you were looking for as much as I really, really, really hope it does.
> 
>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Vague allusions/mentions of Ozai's canonical child abuse, mentions of the Air Nomad genocide, allusions to dead bodies.

Nothing around him made sense any more. He’d been told over and over – mostly by Uncle, but sometimes by half-there figures he could very well have imagined – that things would make more sense once the fever broke and he’d healed a little. But Zuko was lucid, and more than able to walk around by himself, and it felt like the states of confused semi-consciousness had made _more_ sense than the reality he was struggling to grip in his hands at the moment. Nothing around him made sense any more. And it wasn’t just because one of his eyes was bandaged closed and he was staring at the buildings around him that were built upside down.

“Is there anything…” He swallowed, hard, even though he was too numb to do anything embarrassing like cry. “Uncle. Isn’t there… some way I can… I can prove… Can you think of _anything_.”

The first few times he’d asked the question, he’d begged his uncle to find ways for him to earn his way back home. The pleading was gone, dropped somewhere to the depths of the cavern the Western Air Temple reached into so greedily. It was a rote question, like the prayers Zuko had memorised but was guilty of muttering without real, conscious thought. It was him clinging to the last bit of a reality that was all he’d ever known, even as he stood with his feet on what was, technically, a ceiling but functioned as a floor.

“I’m sorry, my nephew,” Uncle said, quiet and sorrowful but firm. “There were no conditions added to your banishment.”

He’d heard it before, in various stages of lucidity, and it still hurt as much as the knowledge that not once had one of the voices comforting him through the fever belonged to the man he loved and had served faithfully until he’d unintentionally turned into a traitor. He’d thought he’d understood consequences the morning he woke up to find his mother… _gone_. But this… he’d done this to himself. And it hadn’t even saved anybody.

“Why are we here?” He sounded dull and hollow even to his own ears.

“I wanted to find information the Fire Nation would not tell me. Or was not able to tell me, for lack of knowledge. I’m afraid those two are the same thing too often, in the days we find ourselves in.” Uncle had never made sense, even before, so it wasn’t even another jolt to the system to realise he didn’t understand the older man. Zuko simply kept silent, staring out and seeing nothing, numb and lost and so incredibly _sorry_ and circling around the truth that _he could never go home again_ like lion shark around a kill. “Come, Zuko. You must rest, and then… It will be difficult, but I feel that you need to see, with me.”

Zuko did not fight the hands pulling him away and steering him back to the camp Uncle had set up. He did not fight the pull of sleep that still had such a strong sway over his body and mind. He let Uncle lead him deeper into the Western Air Temple, and was _almost_ numb and lost enough not to be impacted by what they found. Zuko knew what had transpired between the Fire Nation soldiers and the Western Air Nomads. He’d learned the history more than once. And what he was staring at did not fit reality.

He wondered, as he and Uncle silently honoured the dead in the only way they knew how, whether his actions were better or worse than dishonouring his father in a war room in an attempt to save Fire Nation boys who could have – probably would have – done what he saw around him to others if given the chance. He wondered if anybody had burned a hundred years ago in an attempt to save the Air Nomads. He wondered if it meant something that the attempt had been made, even if it – like his disloyalty – had made little difference, in the end.

It _mattered_ to him, somehow; the first thing that had mattered since Uncle had not changed his response to Zuko’s plea for a way to return home. But he couldn’t articulate _why_ , and so he stopped thinking about it. Stopped thinking about how he was honouring Air Nomads in the customs of those who had killed them. Stopped thinking about how he hadn’t even healed from his last treason before he was committing his second.

It was just…

He was too hollow and shaky and _weak_ to try and force things around him to make sense again.

»»-------------ii.-------------««

Uncle was a traitor.

Not just in a _bury your enemies in a way meant only for honourable sons and daughters of fire_ sense, but in a _head of an organisation he’s rallying to end the war_ sense. He didn’t even try to hide it from Zuko once the crew he’d rustled up from the shores of some desperate village brought them as close to Shu Jing as they could. Zuko had followed dispassionately, not remotely interested where they were or which Great Swordsman they were trekking to see and why, not even when the man turned out to be so tall he looked laughable next to Uncle. And then they’d been sitting down to tea Zuko hadn’t planned on drinking and Piandao had asked Uncle to cut straight to the chase and Uncle had laid some Pai Sho tile on the table and had very _casually_ begun talking _treason_.

Finally, Zuko’s brain and tongue caught up with one another, and he managed to blurt out some demand for an explanation. Uncle and Piandao looked at him, and he was ashamed to admit he flinched away in the sudden rush of remembering what had happened the last time he’d spoken up in a meeting without permission. But Uncle simply explained all about the White Lotus and how he was their most senior member, and had been for _years_ , and Zuko was suddenly forced to, once again, try to find his footing in the utter _insanity_ that his life had become.

He might have always been a bit of a sorry excuse for a prince, let alone an heir, but, by Agni, he was not stripped of all his loyalty along with his honour during his banishment. And so the numbness that had been in him for so long was replaced wit absolute, white-hot rage. How _dare_ his uncle. The man who had once been in line to the throne. The man with royal blood in his veins. And this common swordsman, who lived in nobility’s house as though he had a right to be there. Plotting the end of their _Fire Lord’s_ reign while Father – while Ozai did the work necessary to make their nation great and the rest of the world catch up to their innovations and better social structures and education.

The worst part – the _absolute Koh-stolen worst part_ – was that Uncle bowed low to the ground in front of Piandao and asked the man to forgive Zuko for the things Zuko had said and the way Zuko had wrecked his house. As though he needed _forgiveness_ for rightfully _beginning_ the punishment the traitor deserved. Piandao had looked at him, coldly, and Zuko had channelled Azula and snarled at him that he’d rather burn and die than ask for forgiveness for being loyal and halfway honourable.

(“Oh, _Zuko_ ,” Uncle had said, and the sorrow and heartbreak in the tone made that moment stick lightning-sharp in Zuko’s head for years and years to come.)

“He’ll make up for it with hard labour,” Piandao said. Before glancing at Iroh and saying, “If you think he’s worth it, old friend.”

“He is,” Uncle insisted. “Please, Piandao, trust me. You will see it in time, too.”

“I will do _nothing_ you say,” Zuko snarled, and was utterly ignored. Even when he burned another of Piandao’s artworks with flames that were still weak and shaking, but the strongest he’d managed to call up since… _since_.

“Are you certain you are seeing this boy, and not just seeing your son?” Piandao asked, so bluntly that Zuko forgot to be rightfully enraged for a moment, and just stared at Uncle in throat-clenching, heart-dropping sympathy.

Uncle inhaled very slowly. “I _am_ seeing my son,” he said, thickly.

And Piandao nodded after a moment, as though that made sense. “We will begin swordsmanship training in the morning, boy.”

Zuko refused, loudly. He was locked in a room for the night, with Uncle’s soft pleas coming through the door for hours after he’d pretended to go to sleep. Piandao dragged him awake the next morning, heedless of the small, shaking flames Zuko could call to his palms. And Zuko might not be as smart as his sister, but he wasn’t completely clueless; he realised, after a few days, that he was still far too weak to do any real damage. That Uncle and Piandao had all the power over them. That playing along – playing smart – would mean he learned another weapon, lulled them into a false sense of security _and_ got him closer to finding out who their other ‘White Lotus’ allies were, so he could warn the next Fire Nation general he saw. And so he _stewed_ , the rage in him building steadily even as he lashed out at everything and everyone that got too close, biding his time for when he could execute his final plan, determined that he would not descend entirely into something despicable, even if his own failings had cut him off from his land and his people and his purpose.

»»-------------iv.-------------««

The rage did not disappear just because he made the decision to join the White Lotus and not take them down from the inside, as previously intended. It still burned in his veins, as confused and directionless as Zuko himself felt. Uncle refused to let Zuko expend himself to exhaustion during Firebending practise, so Zuko took to practising his swordsmanship whenever Uncle’s back was turned. And even that was not enough to stop his thoughts churning and churning and churning, tossing themselves between what he had learned on Kyoshi and in Shu Jing and what he’d learned his whole life before.

He hated himself, on some days, when he did nothing but watch people sneak inside the little house they were renting on Ma’inka Island to _play Pai Sho_ with Uncle. All sorts of people, from all walks of life, even those from the colonies and other islands. And most of them Fire Nation citizens. Some not yet fully convinced, but warily curious enough they were brought there by traitors to listen. To ask questions. To be turned into more traitors, who would bring more traitors, who would slowly amass against the throne. Zuko knew there were other Masters, as Uncle called them, in other places doing the same – turning the group they insisted had started out as a philosophy club into an underground rebellion. Zuko saw. Zuko heard. And he did _nothing_ , and he hated himself enough for it that he trained until his muscles tore. Until he could not think about it, any more.

_You will learn respect. And suffering will be your teacher._

He very rarely fell asleep on the futon assigned to him, and almost always woke up to find somebody had draped a blanket or cloak around him while he slept. One day, he woke to find Uncle sitting beside him, sharing the blanket in the winter pre-dawn.

“Zuko. You have to stop this. _Please_.”

“Why don’t _you_ stop?” Zuko snapped back, clambering to his feet on stiff, aching legs so he could glare at his Uncle from a height.

Uncle opened his mouth, and then paused and simply looked at Zuko, seeming old and tired and far too wise all at once. “Would you really like me to?” he asked, eventually. “We can disappear to one of the colonies. I will pass my duties on to another. And we can make a life for ourselves completely removed from all of this.” He managed a weak grin. “A teashop! I’ll finally have my dream of opening a teashop.”

For long moments, Zuko pictured it; a life where he no longer had to _know_. Where he no longer had to watch treachery being born right under his nose. One where he could remain loyal to his father and sister and ancestors without having to make impossible choices every day. One where he could forget what Piandao and Suki had taught him. Forget what he’d seen in the streets and in the homes of too many over the years – forget the hopelessness and the tears and the funeral songs and the solemn hatred for things they could not name. Forget what he’d seen in the Western Air Temple, and how the thoughts had had accompanied him _finally_ putting to rest the long-dead hadn’t stopped circling back to whisper to him since.

_Was it still treason if the treasonous act was to try and atone for a lie and a crime that could not be atoned for? Had anybody burned trying to save them? Had his attempts to save them mattere, at all?_

_You will learn respect, and suffering will be your teacher._

“No,” he said, finally. “I can’t… I can’t do _nothing_.”

And if he couldn’t stop the treason, he would do a mockery of what he’d been born to do – help the people. At a travelling market stall one day, Zuko found himself staring at a familiar blue mask. It hit him, then, how long ago he’d last seen it – how long it had been since his family had been whole, and his mother was taking them to _Love Amongst the Dragons_ yet again in the vain hope that they would do the play justice, this year. How long it had been since his mother had snuck her collection of theatre masks out of their hiding place, putting them on and acting out bits of her favourite plays as Zuko’s bedtime stories. Unbidden, Zuko found himself stroking the Dark Water Spirit mask as memories stabbed like daggers.

Maybe life had been falling apart since the moment he fell out of his mother’s arms back into sleep, and woke up in a world where she simply was not there, any more. Because of him. Always because of him.

He took the mask back with him to their rented house, and waited until a certain man came to Uncle’s Pai Sho table. He cornered said man as he was leaving, and demanded to know whether there were still small bounty amounts available for criminals in the city.

It didn’t take long for the rumours about the Blue Spirit, saviour of the weak and petty trickster to the troublesome, to start circulating. Zuko almost found he could take delight in them.

He could never be what he was, and would never be able to scrape together what he’d been _meant_ to be ( _you were lucky to be born_ ) but he _could not do nothing_. And helping Fire Nation citizens was close enough to how things should have been that it helped quiet the howl of confused rage in his heart for a while.

»»-------------v.-------------««

“What?” It came out like an exhale with a crack down the middle of it, but Zuko felt too numb to even be ashamed at how much like a lost, tremulous little boy he sounded.

Zhao smirked at him; a predator savouring the last few moments of the hunt. “I have received orders from Fire Lord Ozai to take charge of the hunt for the Avatar. Since it has been three years and your attempts were... lacking... at best, the Fire Lord thought it best to send somebody else who could actually fulfil the order.”

Zuko had disliked the man the few times he’d met him in the palace, but Zhao’s words before had always been half-veiled insults, and Zuko had grown up with Azula, so this was the first time he was staring up at the man and finding himself with the feeling of sinking horror in his chest.

“Commander Zhao – ”

“Admiral,” Zhao interrupted Uncle, that smirk widening.

“Admiral,” Uncle corrected with a little bow of his head. Zuko was still frozen to the spot, trying to absorb the information that had just landed in front of him without warning, appearing as swiftly as Zhao had from the horizon.

He’d been worried that Zhao was after them because Uncle’s ties to the White Lotus were rumoured. Those worries seemed like they belonged to somebody else, even though Zhao had only boarded their ship a minute ago.

“I appreciate you informing me on the goings on of the Fire Nation Army in the area, but, as I am still on approved military leave, the information does not – ”

“I simply wanted to be sure,” Zhao interrupted again, “that the _former prince_ knew that the window for him undoing his banishment has now closed.”

Zuko stopped breathing even as Uncle, beside him, inhaled very sharply. This time, he didn’t even manage to add sound to the word; simply _mouthed_ ‘what’ at Zhao as though that could change something. He felt colder than he had even in those first days after the Agni Kai, when his internal flame had been very weak and his own terror had made him refuse to even meditate, much less practise Firebending.

Zhao gave him an odd look, as though his reaction was not what he expected; paused, as though Zuko just needed some time to understand. But Zuko felt sick and dizzy and cold, like everything was upside down again, even though the world was right-side up.

“Thank you, Admiral,” Uncle said, very tightly.

Afraid, Zuko realised a second later. Uncle was _afraid_. And it was to him that Zuko turned, and it was to him Zuko forced the question past air he couldn’t seem to catch properly. “What is he talking about?”

“You didn’t tell him, General?” Zhao was delighted.

“Tell me what? Uncle.” Iroh, who had planned treason in front of Zuko for years, could not meet his eyes for the first time. “ _Uncle_.”

With delicate precision, Zhao used truth to break Zuko apart. Every word felt like a blow to somewhere Zuko had thought was safe and protected. Iroh still would not look at him, and the shame was evident. It hurt too much. This – _this_ – hurt far, far too much. And he’d been so stupid to think that it would not come. Zhao finally left, disappointed when Zuko did nothing but stand, frigid still, simultaneously burning and dying on the inside. Iroh dismissed the man, coldly, and Zhao tried once more to get a rise out of Zuko. But Zuko had rage for only one person, right then. And when that person reached a shaking hand to his shoulder, calling him _nephew_ , Zuko lashed out with fire instinctively, his body finally knowing a threat when it saw one.

Iroh was a war general, and only a bit of his sleeve got singed. “Zuko – ”

“You lied to me.” His voice was shaking to the point where he almost choked on it.

“Zuko, please, I only – ”

“I _could have gone home_!” Zuko roared at him. “ _I could have gone home and you told me I couldn’t and then you made me a traitor to the crown. I could have gone home with restored honour and instead you made sure that I would never be allowed back except for execution to crimes against the throne_.” His voice felt like it was about to tear he was screaming so loudly. “You _deliberately_ made sure that I would be banished a thousand times over if they ever knew _half_ the things I have done and let happen these past three years. You... you...”

“Think. Zuko, please, just think for a moment. Think of all you’ve seen and why _you_ chose to join us, my neph-”

“ _No_ ,” Zuko snarled. “I am _nothing_ of yours. _You_ are still a prince of the Fire Nation. _You_ can still _choose_ to go _home_ any time you _want_ to end your hsuanning _military leave_ and be given all that your blood entitles you except the throne. You are _Fire Nation_ and you are _royalty_ and I am _neither_. I was _stripped of it_ – my home, my title, my birthright, my _family_. And you... you made sure I’d never...” Zuko didn’t care that Iroh was crying. “I hate you,” he said, calmly, fury cold and heavy in his bones. “I hate you for this. And I never want to see you again.”

Iroh didn’t try and stop him from walking away. Jee’s crew didn’t stop him from grabbing the single bag that contained his belongings from the pile they were almost ready to load for their journey to the Earth Kingdom. And nobody stopped him from sneaking aboard Zhao’s ship.

»»-------------xxiv.-------------««

Now that it was over, and the hyper-focus was gone, adrenaline made Zuko’s heartbeat loud in his own ears. He was elated, smug, vindicated, giddy, surprised, bewildered. But he only became _afraid_ when Piandao’s voice echoed across the murmurs.

“The Grand Lotus will now choose the direction the White Lotus will take.”

And then Uncle was stepping towards him in blue and white robes, looking graver and much more toned and regal and Zuko had a sudden, fuzzy memory of a younger Uncle in his military uniform almost at the same time as he remembered some of the things he’d yelled at Uncle when he’d last seen the man more than a year ago. Mouth suddenly dry, heartbeat picking up speed even more, Zuko faced his Uncle and wondered if he was about to partake in _another_ Agni Kai, or if Uncle would simply banish him outright without the Fire Nation custom. Out here, after all, it would not be insisted upon; there were no Sages, and Uncle was the only witness, and so if he wanted to lie (again, a small voice of fear whispered) then it would be his word against Zuko’s. And Zuko knew how that went.

And so he swallowed the pride from his victories and half crashed to his knees, ignoring Sokka’s little noise of shocked protest from somewhere behind him. As he bowed low to the ground, heart _hammering_ and breath shaking, he felt the shifts that signalled his friends moving closer to him. And that... It made him able to breathe, suddenly, knowing that there were people behind him willing to step in to this situation if he once again didn’t have the right words.

But... but he’d _rehearsed_ this. Every time he’d thought they’d find White Lotus members, who would potentially take him directly to Uncle a house or two over, he’d spent the quiet travelling hours practising this speech. “Prince Iroh,” he said to the ground, willing himself not to shake. “Grand Lotus. I ask that whatever slight I have done you and your honour today or any days before this does not affect your decision to view the Avatar and his Masters with anything except – ”

There was a thump of something hitting the floor, and then hands under his arms, and Zuko was so surprised that he cut off mid-practised sentence and allowed himself to be pulled upright. All the breath left him when Uncle, who was on his knees in front of Zuko, pulled him fiercely to his chest.

“You’re alive,” Uncle whispered. “You’re alive and you’re okay. Oh, Zuko...”

All of a sudden, there was a lump rising in Zuko’s throat. Tentatively, still unsure that this was allowed, he reached out a hand and put it on Uncle’s back. When Uncle exhaled a shaky, relieved laugh, Zuko found himself clinging to the back of Uncle’s robes with both hands.

“I’m sorry.” It didn’t sound like a controlled warrior. “I’m so sorry for what I said. I didn’t – I was – But, um, I found the Avatar!” Uncle laughed shakily again, and Zuko tried to get back on track with his speech. “I taught him Firebending, and we really _have_ been recruiting people, and I swear I didn’t tell anybody about the White Lotus at all. Well. Except the Avatar and his friends, but I figured that was okay – ”

“I was worried you meant it,” Uncle whispered, and he sounded _broken_ enough the lump completely closed Zuko’s throat. “That you’d never want to see me again. We couldn’t find you. I didn’t know... I didn’t know if I’d ever be able to atone for what I did.” Zuko inhaled into Uncle’s shoulder for a moment. “But look at you.” Uncle finally disengaged to hold Zuko at arm’s length, and he was unashamedly crying even as he beamed. “You found your own path, and made a greater one than I even imagined for you, my nephew.”

“I had help,” Zuko murmured, and glanced over his shoulder. Sokka was weeping and trying to look like he wasn’t, and the rest were grinning at him with variations of a soft, joyous pride. He glanced back at Iroh. “Avatar Aang is exactly what the world needs right now,” he said, firmly. “He will not only return balance, but he will ensure the Fire Nation can atone in a way that makes them stronger instead of breaking them. He holds balance; he embodies what the White Lotus stands for.”

Uncle continued to beam and got to his feet before helping Zuko up as well. “I agree,” he said, loudly, so all present could hear. And most of the other White Lotus members began to smile and nod. “The White Lotus welcomes you, Avatar Aang, and would be honoured to join our cause with yours, as our causes are one in the same, making us allies and brothers.”

Aang gave Iroh a Fire Nation bow. “It is an honour to serve with the White Lotus for peace,” Aang said, formally. And then he grinned at Uncle, eyes dancing. “And it’s so great to meet you, after all Zuko’s stories.”

“I really hope you tell your jokes better than Zuko copies them,” Sokka said, grinning easily. “Because he really doesn’t know how to hold out to a punchline.” Katara nudged him, sharply, but she was smirking, too.

Iroh chuckled as Zuko pulled a childish face at him, and then beckoned the other children forward. When Zuko started introducing his friends to Uncle and the rest of the White Lotus members present, Uncle shifted to his left side and placed one hand on Zuko’s shoulder, as a Fire Nation father would do to signal his first born son to those present in the gathering.


	2. Toph

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter:** Mentions of Ozai's canonical child abuse and Azula parroting it. Mentions of Toph's family life. Very brief mentions of imprisonment, theft, refugees and war injuries. 
> 
> A reminder that every single chapter is written as gen. But, like, intense found family gen. So make of that what you will.

»»-------------vii.-------------««

The expanse of seemingly endless desert was a relief, after everything else – warmer than the North Pole and quieter than the Earth Kingdom villages he’d been passing through for the past... Week? Two weeks? Month? Zuko didn’t know any more. He’d simply lurched onto the first desperately fleeing, half-destroyed boat he found and hadn’t stopped moving since. He’d known, even as he started running, that the moment he slowed down he’d have to think about the things cloying _just_ beyond his consciousness. And he really had not wanted to deal with those things beyond the inevitable nightmares he could not control.

But those last Earthbending thugs had done a number on him, he had to admit, and the bruises and mild fractures and the lack of food and water had finally forced him into stopping somewhere for a rest. Once he was down, getting up proved a feat he was not yet equal to. And, as predicted, sitting still and staring into the fire while absently stroking the borrowed (stolen) ostrich horse made him start to _think_. He couldn’t stop seeing Zhao being swallowed by a raging wall of icy water. The way the man had refused his hand. The sight of one or two floaters as the boat had given its all to escape the angry, powerful, grieving Northern Water Tribe. Strangers grieving a fallen... somebody, who had given her life to save so many things that relied on the moon.

And, of course, the whispering questions underneath it all. What did this mean for the war? Were the Waterbenders preparing a retaliation attack? What of the Avatar that Zuko had not even caught a glimpse of, beyond the eerie glow in the middle of the humanoid form made of dark ocean water? Had Zhao...? It seemed impossible that the man had made it out alive when so many other loyal Fire Nation soldiers had not (more grieving mothers, sisters, fathers, brothers, friends. More villages giving money they did not have to get the bodies back home. Would they be allowed burial rights, or would their hearts break as they lived every morning greeting the sun knowing their loved ones would not even be allowed the dignity of meeting Agni as children?), but, even if he had, he would be a war prisoner. Did that mean that Zuko had a chance to take back the assignment he hadn’t known he’d had? Could he _somehow_ find the Avatar, capture the man, take him home and gain back his honour? Would he be able to keep all his actions over the past three years a secret, or would it be inevitable that his traitorous deeds were exposed? Where would he even start looking for the last Airbender?

If it came down to it, would he betray White Lotus secrets for the birthright, the honour, the nationality, the rites and the family he’d been stripped of three years ago?

All of it clashed and gurgled in his head – Uncle’s betrayal and all he’d seen of the Fire Nation people and everything in-between the two points. As it did, he absently began redressing his wrapped ribs so that he’d be able to endure a ride sometime soon. Zuko didn’t think he had to be quiet, out there in the Earth Kingdom wilderness, but there was suddenly a crashing through the bush to where he was wearily seated, the ostrich horse rising with an alarmed squawk, and he startled into action. It was telling in all sorts of gut-churning ways that his first instinct was to reach for his swords and not his fire.

“What in the forsaken are you doing?” the intruder snarled, and Zuko was almost surprised enough to lower his swords when he realised he’d just been stormed by a girl who looked about thirteen, at the absolute most.

“Get the hsuan away from my camp,” Zuko spat back at her, too many years telling him not to lower his defences just because she was young and had something strange going on with her eyes.

The woman snorted. “Why the hsuan are you camping out _here_?”

“None of your business. Go lick Agni’s ass on your way out.”

Inexplicably, the young girl _grinned_ at him, all delighted, sharp edges. Zuko became instantly more wary.

“ _Out_ implies we’re _in_ somewhere.” She stalked closer and flung herself carelessly to the floor. “Got anything to drink?”

He really had to figure out how things like that kept happening – how, despite his best attempts to get everybody to _leave him alone_ he kept _attracting_ people towards him. This little girl with a mouth like many of the sailors Zuko knew also completely ignored his attempts to get her to go away, no matter how subtle or how overt, and he eventually found himself losing some of his precious water supply to her because _she was thirsty._ And then he made the mistake of half asking why she was in the middle of nowhere drinking his water, and he got a rather detailed version of her life story, and her recent spat with her friends.

Honestly, he was half ignoring all of it and thinking of ways to get rid of her, when she suddenly dropped the cocky, arrogant lilt to her story and turned... more serious. “Sorry. You don’t... um... you don’t actually have to answer that.”

It took him two beats too long for him to scrounge through the conversation that had just happened around him in order to realise she’d asked about the reason _he_ was out there in the middle of nowhere. The silence stretched far too long, and Zuko thought of Song reaching out to touch his scar before trying to comfort him by sharing her trauma, and how much it had hurt and cut at his conflicted soul, and he turned a glare on the girl before realising she couldn’t see him. But she must have been good at reading the atmosphere, because she tripped hurriedly into a request for food, happily insulting the supplies she routed out and felt with grubby fingers despite him yelling at her furiously to _stop touching his food_.

Despite everything, she still somehow got him to mention Uncle; kept going on an on about how he didn’t even have tea for her, _his guest,_ and the words about Uncle just... slipped out. Angry and defensive and unkind, but she ignored his tone. And then there was a moment of silence in which he waited for her to ask but she did not. And it was… a relief. She’d been yawning steadily more and more – something about not getting a lot of sleep, he vaguely remembered – and when she _finally_ went quiet, he decided to continue checking his bandages. She was blind, anyway, he figured; she wouldn’t see the injuries, and he wasn’t making much noise at all, even when he poked a little too hard at too-tender spots.

“That… doesn’t sound good, Desert Man,” she said suddenly, and when he jumped – with a hiss he couldn’t quite contain at the sudden movement - and turned to glare at her, he found her looking a little to his left, her head cocked and a frown on her face. “Your breathing and heartbeat are very much I’m Hurting Right Now jumpy.”

“You’re _blind_ ,” he snapped at her.

“And not _stupid_ ,” she shot back, crossing her arms and tossing her hair. “I’m the _Earth Rumble Champ_. I know what it’s like to be sitting around people who are nursing bumps and bruises and worse. Yours… sound worse.”

“Well, you’re wrong,” Zuko snapped back.

The girl sighed. “Listen, Desert Man –”

“ _Stop calling me that_.”

“Well, you didn’t tell me your name!” she snapped back.

“Maybe that should have told you something, _Champ_.”

“Was that… was that supposed to be an insulting nickname?” she asked, incredulous.

“If I say yes, will you _leave me alone_?”

“Not a chance, Desert Man.” She pointed an imperious finger at him, and, for the first time, the stories about her growing up rich and pampered started to show evidence. “You’re out here alone, with absolute komodo rhino shit supplies, and you’re hurt.”

“So _what_? You don’t even know me.”

“You shared food and water and actually offered me a safe place to _sleep_ for the first time in – ”

“I am _not_ a safe place to sl–”

“So now I’m going to pay you back.”

“And how do you _possibly_ plan on doing that?”

The girl suddenly bit her lip and folded her arms again. But, this time, it looked like more of a comforting gesture. “One of my friends is a healer.”

Zuko blinked at her. “The friends you’ve run away from?” She scowled and picked at her toes and said nothing. “I don’t _want_ your help. And I don’t _need_ it.”

“Yes, you do!” she exploded. “You’re being so stubborn about people just –”

“Telling me what to do when I can take care of myself!” Zuko yelled back.

Her mouth opened, but she locked up, frozen. “Spirits,” she finally said, sounding a little stunned. “Is this what I sound like to other people?”

Zuko snarled at her. “We are nothing alike,” he said, moodily.

“No,” she answered, quietly, “because I actually _do_ have people I can rely on for help... I know that, as irritating and suffocating and self-righteous as Sugar Queen is, if I took you with me right now, she’d heal you without even asking questions about it. And they’d all welcome me back.” She bit her lip. “Not only ‘cause of teaching Aang Earthbending...” she murmured, more to herself than Zuko.

Something clenched tight in Zuko’s chest, and he turned away from her in a huff, randomly sorting through his things so he wouldn’t have to look at her. The ostrich horse let out a low noise and he glanced up and found his stomach disappearing. The girl had the horse by the bridal, and his sack of food in her other hand, and was marching off.

_“Hey_.” He leapt to his feet, whipping out his swords.

“Are you really gonna attack a blind girl who just needs help getting back to her friends?” Her voice was simpering sweet. He spluttered, incoherent in his anger. “Come on, Desert Man. I’ll give it all back once you agree to let Sweetness heal you, okay? If I have to learn to depend on people... you do, too. Misery loves company. Now, come on. I really am exhausted and I don’t wanna argue about petty things any more.”

“I could make you give them back,” he threatened, hands on his swords tightening.

“You could try. But I’ll see you coming a mile away – pun intended – and I’ll kick your ass. Then I’ll take your unconscious ass with me and have you healed. So. Either you come quietly, or you’re _dragged_.”

“ _Why_ are you so _persistent_ in this?” Zuko exploded, grumpily sheathing his swords.

  
“This is how I care. And I’m trying to turn a new leaf and become a better person and not just an outlaw,” she said, happily. “Blame Twinkle Toes and his Do Good aura.”

Zuko stomped after her for a few minutes, failed to free his ostrich horse with his attack that had the element of surprise to it, was told (not for the first time, if her tone was anything to go by) that she sensed vibrations through her feet with Earthbending, and then resigned himself to half-limping after her. She slowed down when she picked up on it, but the pace was still brisk as they made their way back to where she’d last left her friends. The fact that she was convinced they either hadn’t left or were looking for her made Zuko... think. And those thoughts chased others in his head, pulling him back into the deep waters he’d been proverbially swimming in since Zhao had... drowned.

“Do you ever think...” he blurted, when they’d been walking for almost two hours in relative silence, “that maybe you... that maybe your home wasn’t so bad? That you just... while you were there, you just made it seem worse than it was? Don’t you wonder what it would be like to go back?”

She was very quiet for a long while, and Zuko thought she wouldn’t answer. “Almost every day,” she said, quietly. “I _miss_ home. And there are some times when I just... when I wonder if it’s worth it to just... forget everything I’ve been allowed out here, just to...” She swallowed, then squared her shoulders. “But those thoughts are wrong.”

There was too much hollow in Zuko for him to answer. They walked for another half hour before she said, so quietly he could pretend he hadn’t heard her guess at all, “I’m glad you got out from wherever had you, too.”

»»-------------viii.-------------««

Zuko saw a lick of blue flames and _knew_ , heart lurching at the recognition. He snatched for the girl’s arm, and she turned to him, tensing already.

“Your friends are in trouble,” he said, mouth going dry, heart hammering in... hope? Fear? How did he feel about seeing his sister for the first time in three years?

“But Aang is –”

“You _don’t understand_ ,” Zuko said, shaking her slightly in his urgency. “You can’t see it, but those flames on the horizon are _blue_. There’s only one person I know who can make blue fire like that.” He licked his lips. “And that’s Ozai’s daughter. I don’t know why she’s after your friends – ”

“I do,” the girl whispered, her face suddenly pale. “What do we do?”

“Get closer, assess the situation, and be _careful_. She probably won’t be alone.”

They left the ostrich horse behind and crept closer to what looked like an abandoned town. Zuko took a glance over the pile of rubble they hid behind and caught a glimpse of Azula’s profile, but not who she was facing off against. The girl stamped and paused to listen for a few moments.

“It’s only Aang over there,” the girl whispered to him. “I can’t feel the others.” A small hand gripped his arm. “Do you think she’s...?”

“I don’t know,” he said back. When her lips pursed, he added, awkwardly, “I’m sorry.”

She stamped her foot again and then gasped. “I think I just felt them land!”

“Land?” Zuko wondered out loud.

“They’re on the other side of the town and... yep. Running closer.”

“Intercept them,” Zuko said, quietly. “You _need_ to ambush... the Fire Nation princess. Use the buildings to your advantage; as weapons. Get her feet, and then her hands. I’ll do what I can from this side.”

She nodded and ran off and Zuko watched her go and hoped... something. It was his _sister_ down there, but it didn’t sound like the girl and her friends were killers. Was Azula? Would somebody die in this battle, today? He deliberated for long seconds before he snuck back to his bags and pulled out the Blue Spirit mask. There was still too much he had to answer; he didn’t want to meet Azula when he was still so very unsure of the truth. After all, Azula _always_ lied. Hair tied properly back and masked, Zuko used years of stealth training to sneak up behind his sister and her opponent, who could only be somewhat seen in the smoke of Azula’s fires. Ignoring the protests of his injuries, Zuko cut loose some old beams. They made enough of a noise to alert his sister before they hit her, but, she was distracted, scanning for the second opponent. And that left her open to the attack of the Earthbender and her other friends.

As he’d instructed, the Earthbender went first for Azula’s feet, encasing her legs up to her knees in rock. Azula would be able to bend free, but it would take her time to work up that much energy without movement. She could still use her hands, however, but the group of smoky individuals – two dressed in blue, a short one in orange, from what he could tell – were keeping her busy. Zuko ducked out of sight again, gripping his swords, stuck in indecision. And then there was a cracking noise, and a cry, and something that sounded like wind, and Azula was suddenly lading in a crouch in front of him.

Instinct had him levelling his swords at her, and surprise cost her a split second of hesitation that her perfectionist training usually didn’t allow her. Zuko lunged, but sloppily, heart not really in it, and she skittered away just as the Earthbender tried to grab her again. She shot fire at Zuko, but he knew how to dodge, even after three years. And then Azula ran, looking murderous at the prospect, but also looking around as though she expected more armed, masked assailants to be hiding in corners. Which was a fake-out Zuko hadn’t planned, which meant its working only left a sour taste in his mouth.

Somebody was saying they had to get out of there before she came back with her ‘two crazy friends’, and Zuko took the opportunity to turn around himself. He could hear the Earthbender calling out after him, but he anticipated her hold and dodged as Azula had inadvertently just taught him to do, and left the little one to explain to her friends who she was yelling about. He didn’t need their help. He didn’t want to know why Azula was after them, even as a part of him reasoned that apprehending the people Azula had just _failed_ to capture would only be in his favour. The point simply was... Zuko didn’t know. The Blue Spirit persona in him remembered how Lee and his villagers had thanked him and honour guarded his way out of their village, giving him food they couldn’t afford to part with. But Azula... could be his way back home. He hadn’t seen her in _three years._

_“Dad’s going to kill you.”_ The _glee_ that had been in her words.

And so he ran, hating himself for the cowardice, not yet ready to face whatever the real truth was. If he could even find it, any more.

»»-------------x-------------««

He realised, as the figures came stumbling over the sand towards him, that they were all _children_. The two in blue from the abandoned Earth Kingdom village – Water Tribe, by their garb and appearance – were the eldest by far, and the girl was still round-faced in her youth. The boy certainly didn’t look like he shaved more than the sides of his head.

_Why_ were they all children? Zuko glanced at the point the tower had disappeared into the sand, but there was nobody else there. The unconscious Sandbenders littered around them were, genuinely, the oldest people around.

“What’s with the mask?” the Water Tribe male said, squinting suspiciously at Zuko’s face. “Are you trying to be all mysterious hero, Masked Man?”

“Everybody, _this_ is _Desert Man_ ,” the Earthbender said, primly. She stuck out her tongue in the Water Tribe boy’s general direction. “Who is, as you can clearly see, completely _real_. And probably still injured, Aang, so I’d stop squeezing him so tightly.”

The Avatar – the _Spirits-forsaken Avatar,_ who had all but _fallen from the sky_ into Zuko’s _lap_ – jumped back, looking guilty. “Oops. Sorry. Um. Are you okay?”

The Water Tribe girl stepped forward, cautious but with a wide, open face and body language. “I can heal you,” she offered and, Agni, these _children_ were exactly as the Earthbender said they’d be. “Toph said you helped – ”

“ _You’re_ Toph Beifong?” Zuko said, surprise wrenching the question from him.

The little Earthbender crossed her arms. “What’s it to you?”

Zuko sighed. “Some guys at the Misty Palms tried to hire me to track you down. They’re on your tail.”

She winced. “Oh.”

“So you’re after Toph?” the Water Tribe man said, narrowing his eyes again and reaching subtly for the weapon on his side.

“He said they _tried_ to hire him,” Toph said. A grin was pulling at her lips. “You turned them down?” Zuko’s silence seemed good enough for her. “Well, great! That means there’s nothing stopping you from coming with us.”

“That’s... I don’t need...” Zuko said, stiffly.

“We can’t just leave you in the middle of the desert,” Aang said, appalled. “We can give you a ride! Appa can easily carry one more. We’re headed to Ba Sing Se, but we can do a little detour.”

“A _tiny_ detour,” the Water Tribe boy interrupted, nearly pressing his thumb and forefinger together in his attempt to demonstrate how small the detour had to be. “Since we found _really important information_ that has to get to the Earth King _at once_.”

“What information?” Toph demanded. Eyes flicked in Zuko’s direction. “Oh, come _on_. Who is he gonna tell? He’s bailed us out _three times,_ now.”

A part of him wanted to come clean about how he wasn’t sure whether he wanted to capture the Avatar so he could hand him over to Ozai in exchange for him being allowed to regain his Fire Nation citizenship. This part became all the more conflicted when Aang caved and blurted out the information they’d found about the Day of Black Sun. Zuko had heard of it, but only interposed within myths and bedtime stories and cautionary children’s tales. The fact that it was not only real, but coming very shortly...

“This can totally help us take down the Fire Lord!” the Water Tribe boy enthused.

Zuko’s mouth went dry, and his heart started thudding uncomfortably. The Earthbender didn’t turn to look at him accusingly, which was probably one of the only strokes of good luck he’d ever had in his life. Zuko let the conversation wash around him, head racing as he struggled to wrap his mind around the realisation that he’d found the Avatar and his plans against the Fire Nation so suddenly it was almost ludicrous.

“What do you think, Desert Man?” Toph said, breaking him suddenly out of his reverie. “Have you gotten better at picking up rations since the last time we met? I don’t think you have. So I think you should travel with us and finally get healed, like I said you should.” She punched his arm, suddenly, incredibly hard. “You _ran away_ to break a promise, you snake chicken shit. Say you’re coming with us!” He hesitated another beat. “I’m also heading to Ba Sing Se, actually,” he said, hoping his voice was even. “A ride... um... would be great.”

It would give him time to decide how he was going to capture not only the Avatar, but all the Avatar’s allies, he reasoned, as he followed the _children_ onto the saddle of the flying bison, Toph chattering at him happily the whole way about how awful flying was for her.

»»-------------xvii-------------««

They hadn’t tied his feet very tightly, so Zuko was able to get the ropes off after an hour or so of trying. The skin on his ankles was rubbed raw, but he was long since used to minor inconveniences. Opening the door from the storage hold to the ship’s hallway was difficult with his bound hands, but not only were they bound with metal and not rope, but Zuko thought it would be a very poor show of his innocence and intent to cooperate if he completely broke free of the bonds he’d reluctantly agreed to. He should _actually_ have remained completely bound and meekly sitting in the storage room, but it was dark and boring down there, and he couldn’t stop the itch under his skin that was caused by so many things that had happened in the past day.

Least of all the anxious desire to know more about Aang’s condition. And so he walked, on vigilante-silent feet, around the ship, mostly purposeless beyond the churning of restless anxiety in him. Finally, after not finding a single person on his deck, he decided to risk going up for some fresh air. Even just to quell the small – but rapidly growing – assumption ( _fear_ ) that the others had left him behind.

“I was wondering if you were gonna bust out,” Toph’s voice said as soon as he’d stepped onto the deck, making him tense instinctively before he carefully sought her out in the dark.

She was curled into a corner by the stern, face angled towards the floor of the ship. Zuko realised, with a jolt, that she hated being on the water as much as she did in the air. He hesitated, unsure of where they stood and inwardly _miserable_ about that uncertainty, and then took a tentative few steps forward.

“You okay? I mean, relatively. I mean... being... not on land.”

“Things changed,” she said, shortly, and Zuko felt himself recoil like she’d hit him.

“Right. I’ll – just – ”

Toph’s head shot up as he turned to go. “Wh -? Oh, you dumbpongs, not like _that.”_ She smacked her palm against the wall of the ship and the metal _shuddered_. Zuko’s eyes widened. “Do you really think I give a snake rat’s _ass_ who _spawned_ you?”

“I...”

“I don’t _care_ what crazy your family decides to do, okay? _Your_ decisions are on you. And you’re here, with us.” She went still. “You are, aren’t you? You didn’t... you’re not _really_ trying to escape?”

“We’re in the middle of the ocean,” Zuko said, incredulously.

Toph snorted. “I _have_ met you, Zuko – you have the self-preservation of a gopher lemming.”

“That’s Sokka’s line. And it’s not true,” Zuko huffed.

“It really is, Sparky – you _suck_ at not screwing yourself over.” She sniffed, suddenly, and wiped at her nose. “It’s okay. I kinda suck at it, too.”

“Your parents,” Zuko realised, and moved closer without thinking about it, lowering himself awkwardly at Toph’s side. “What did they...? Um. How did that go?”

“It didn’t. It wasn’t actually a letter from them. Just a trap.”

“I’m sorry...”

Toph shrugged. “It did help me create Metalbending, though.”

“I – _what_?” Toph hit the ship again, and it creaked ominously. And then, under the strain of her palms, part of the railing peeled away, bent into a twist, undid itself and moulded back to the rest of the railing. Zuko took a deep breath and let it out again. “You terrify me,” he said, calmly.

And Toph grinned at him, socking him in the arm. “Thank you.”

The grin didn’t last, however. “I’m still... sorry it didn’t work out with your parents, Champ.”

She shrugged, but she’d curled inwards again. Zuko didn’t press; simply looked at the stars and listened to the waves and missed Uncle fiercely and Jee and his crew only a little less.

“I guess it was just... occurring to me that Aang’s gonna end this war, you know? And... what did that mean for _after_? So when they said they wanted to talk and... I dunno...”

“Accept you as you are.”

“And all that sappy hsuan, yeah...” Toph sighed, gustily. “And now Aang...”

“Katara’s got him.” Zuko said it so fast because there was fear and doubt and pity thrumming in him for the kid – his _friend_ – too.

“I know.” Toph didn’t sound fully convinced, either. “But it... it’s still scary.” She sniffed, again. “I knew we could die, I did. But... it makes it more real when...” Her lip trembled. “I felt his heart stop.” Alarmed at the tremble in her voice, Zuko tried his best to put his arm around her like he’d seen Katara do with so many scared people, even though the gesture, for him, was awkward in a way that was only made worse by his hands being tied together. Toph leaned into him, curling into his side tightly. “I could get rid of those for you, you know,” she said, voice more steady.

“Thanks, but... Trying to show them I’m _not_ a threat. I really _don’t_ want to have to swim somewhere,” he tried to joke, even though his throat was tight.

Toph curled closer. “I won’t let anybody hurt you. Not again.”

Zuko huffed. “Thanks.”

“No, Lee. Zuko... I mean it.” One hand gripped his elbow. “You’re... we may not all have the family we were born into, like Sokka and Katara. But... you and me... we could be that for each other, right?”

“Sure we can, Champ,” he said, very softly.

Toph punched his knee, hard, and then tucked herself close again, and Zuko felt himself relaxing despite the ominous uncertainty of what lay ahead.


	3. Aang

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter** : Mentions of the Air Nomad genocide, talk around killing Ozai, very brief talk about child soldiers and war in general, as well as Agni Kais. Also, Ozai is in this chapter taunting and trying to hurt Zuko.

»»-------------ix.-------------««

Zuko’s first true encounter with the Avatar was having the Airbender fling his arms around Zuko’s middle in a breath-stealing, bone-creaking hug.

After his near-encounter with Azula, Zuko had wandered, flipping between chewing away at the impossible mass of thoughts in his head and getting into fights so he didn’t have to think of anything past the current moment. Eventually, he headed toward the Misty Palms Oasis, where he knew members of the White Lotus were hiding out. But, once he entered the bar, his resolve to go back and face his Uncle – and, by extension, resolve the conflict brewing inside of him with once-and-for-all answers that he wouldn’t like either way – faded, and he found himself dropping into a chair instead. His mask drew attention, and he lied and said he was there to look for work.

Two oily gentlemen offered him close to nothing if he helped them find a missing rich kid they were after – a Beifong, surprisingly, because Zuko vaguely remembered their name being tossed around and dismissed at some Lotus meetings, as the current heads of household were the sort to hide their heads in the sand and refuse politics of any kind unless absolutely forced. Zuko turned the job down; he didn’t have time for stuck-up brats who had made off with the family fortune, or whatever this Toph had done.

The next offer seemed much more lucrative; those who had taught themselves to bend sand who were going on a hunt for large game to resell to a circus or a private collector, and who could use somebody anonymous good with his hands in order to administer some mild poison if the beast really needed to be knocked out for the capture. Zuko agreed, because the money was good, and silently headed out with the Sandbenders after their prey.

Only to find out it wasn’t some wild animal they were capturing, but a Spirits-forsaken _Air Nomad Bison._ Zuko had been so sure they’d all been killed that the sight of one actually made him freeze and gape for a moment. And, just when the realisation of _who_ would own an _Air Nomad Bison_ was starting to sink in, there was suddenly very familiar yelling, and he turned to find the little blind Earthbender trying to fend off the Sandbenders and keep up some collapsing tower-like structure, which was sinking into the sand. One of the men got too rough with her, flinging her little body across the sand, and Zuko yelled at him before he knew what he was doing.

“ _Desert Man,”_ she shrieked, before digging her hands into the sinking tower. “ _Help me_. Please, please, please help me...”

What was he _supposed_ to do in response to that, really?

And halfway through defending the bison against the increasingly angry Sandbenders – who were very definitely _not_ going to pay him, now – figures had crawled their way through the nearly-sunken tower and one of them, small, dressed in orange, had taken in the scene and _started glowing_.

Zuko had simply tried to stay out of his way, honestly, remembering the North Pole all too well. The Sandbenders were all... knocked out, he _thought_ , because he swore he could see the closest one still breathing, and then the Avatar had turned to him with eyes still faintly glowing and had flung himself at Zuko.

“YousavedAppathankyousomuch,” he said, all in one breath, burying his nose into Zuko’s chest. “Thank you, thank you. You _saved_ him.”

Zuko, arms stretched out to either side of him, sweaty palms still gripping his swords, stared down at the bald, tattooed head and felt sick. _This_ was what he would have handed to Ozai.

What he might still hand over to Ozai. A child. He would give over a _child_ to the generals of the Fire Nation, who had slaughtered their _own_ children without thought. Whose grandfathers had been complacent in what Zuko had found at the Western Air Temple. Would hand over this kid to Ozai, who had –

The Avatar looked up at Zuko, huge grey eyes shining with unshed tears, and then he grinned a shaky, relieved, trusting smile.

Zuko felt the agony of something long-yearning in him slowly start to die.

»»-------------xii.-------------««

Since they were all as suspicious of him as they were going to get without him dropping the truth of his parentage on them as well, Zuko used Firebending to start their fire when they stopped for the night. They could probably have pressed on to reach Ba Sing Se in one flight, he’d heard Sokka muttering, but Aang said that Appa was tired. Which was also code for _and we have a Firebender with us who knows about the Day of Black Sun_. He couldn’t even begrudge their suspicion, since he couldn’t even truthfully say whether he _would_ turn them in or not, so, once the fire was lit, he made himself scarce from their happy little circle. Which didn’t seem _too_ happy; from what he could tell, they wanted to honour the memory of some professor who had recently passed.

Zuko chose a spot that was still within sights of their campfire, not wanting them to leave without him ( _but wouldn’t that also be so much easier than having to make a decision?_ ) and was content with being alone. He felt... more than just slightly unsettled, like he was truly becoming unwell; a cloying, unnatural heaviness in his stomach and his bones and a shiver starting all over his skin. The bison, on the other hand, followed the general population in ignoring Zuko’s obvious attempts to not engage with anybody. With a low bellow, it lumbered up behind Zuko, licked him nearly all over with one thorough stroke of its tongue and then flopped behind him with a _whuff_ , half burying him in fur.

“He likes you,” Aang said, eyes bright and feet incredibly light as he zoomed over on a ball of air before _hovering_ in front of where Zuko sat.

“Great,” Zuko grumbled, trying to wipe bison spit off himself to little avail. His hands were trembling very slightly, he noticed with some distant surprise.

“I like you, too,” the Avatar declared, easily, and Zuko looked at him sharply.

“You don’t even know me,” he said, quietly. “If you did... if any of you knew who I was...”

“I know you helped the Spirits, and then helped Toph, and then helped us against Azula” – Zuko managed not to wince – “and then saved Appa when you had every reason not to. And, you know, one of my best friends when I was growing up was from the Fire Nation. Kuzon. I think... we can be friends, too, you and me.” He gave Zuko a rather fragile look that made his stomach churn. “Right?”

“You want me to promise not to tell anybody about the Day of Black Sun,” Zuko said, flatly.

“No. Well, yes!” Aang scratched his neck, sheepishly. “But, um, more than that. I need a Firebending teacher. My last one...” He winced. “We didn’t really... get along.”

“I’m not a Firebending Master,” Zuko said, quietly, the admission still tasting like bitter failure and shame on his tongue.

“You could still teach me the basics, though. That’s where everything starts; a good foundation.” Hsuanning kid sounded just like Uncle. “I need... Sozin’s Comet is coming up really soon. I need to master all four elements so I can stop the Fire Lord.”

“Why do you need to stop the Fire Lord?” Zuko asked, mouth dry.

“Well... that’s kinda the Avatar’s job – bringing balance? So it has to be me, I guess, because – ”

“No. I mean... why does he have to be stopped? Why can’t the war just be allowed to continue?” Aang’s eyes went huge as he gaped at Zuko. “Everything I have ever learned has told me that this war is a good thing,” he said, voice coming out far too rough for his liking. “Why is that wrong? Why is... _Ozai_ wrong?”

Aang looked away, swallowed, hands clenching and unclenching. For a long moment, there was silence. “Because too many people are getting hurt,” he said, finally. “Of all nations. And not just physically – in their heads and hearts. There is no balance when people think violence and force and greed and destruction is good. That isn’t any sort of _living_.”

He regretted asking, because he _knew_ what Aang had told him was true, and the truth of it hurt and made him angry enough he wanted to scream. Instead, he grit his teeth and near spat, “And when you say you’re going to _stop the Fire Lord_ , what, exactly, do you mean?”

He didn’t know what he wanted Aang to say; part of him wanted to finally hear about Ozai’s planned demise out loud and to acknowledge that it was the right course of action. Part of him wanted to be confronted with the words so that rage would make him hate Aang for trying to kill his father and his Fire Lord, and he could focus on loyalty and his duty to protect above every other truth. What he didn’t expect was for Aang to look at him, face twisted in troubled unhappiness.

“I don’t know,” he whispered. “I... I know he’s _bad_. I’ve _seen_ what this war has done to people. And I can _feel_ that the whole Fire Nation is... _off_ because of him. But he’s... he’s still a _person_. And I just... I don’t _know_.” He hung his head. “That probably sounds crazy to you... It does to everybody else.”

_No_ , Zuko barely refrained from saying. _No, I understand that exactly. To the very burning inside my bones_. “I’ll train you,” he said, trying to pretend it was a split-second decision and not something inevitable that had simply become too real and big to ignore any more once he realised how much he and Aang understood one another. “As far as I can; I’ll be your Firebending teacher so you can end the war and stop the Fire Lord.”

That last bit of years-long yearning _seared_ as it finally snuffed itself out in his chest. He _could not_ want to go home any more.

»»-------------xviii.-------------««

Logically, Zuko understood the role of the Avatar. Logically, he agreed that Aang had to be the one bringing about the end of the war, not only as the truly neutral party, but as the last of a race of benders that the Fire Lords had wiped out of existence. But logic turned to smouldering anger every time he looked at the young kid and saw how much the duty gnawed at him. If the Spirits had been kind and fair, Aang’s life as the Avatar would have been full of only restoring balance as the bridge between the natural world and the Spirit World – no wars, no impossible decisions, no hundred-year broken bits all over the earth to attempt to fix, no deep-seated guilt that it was all his fault in the first place.

Verbally, Zuko agreed with the plan for the Day of Black Sun that included Aang going down to the bunkers to fight Ozai; the plan that had him as just one more of the cavalry buying Aang the time he needed before they’d have to subdue the troops once Ozai was defeated, not even joining the others in directly backing up Aang on his journey to meet the Fire Lord because some still distrusted him. He even gave Aang the directions to Ozai’s underground room faithfully so that the kid wouldn’t get turned around in the tunnels.

But then they were heading towards the Capitol, the invasion just about underway, and he saw the misery on Aang’s face, and Zuko made one of those rash, unplanned decisions that people always yelled at him about. He told nobody his revised plan; simply ducked away from the fight and headed into the bunker tunnels, going a slightly different way than Aang was set to go, just in case. He figured, as he ran, that if the Spirits wanted Aang to be the one to face Ozai and not Zuko that Zuko would find an empty room. And, given how the Spirits had seemed to hate him his whole life, Zuko was genuinely surprised when he stepped inside and _actually_ found the room occupied by his father.

Ozai stared at his mask, and Zuko found some distant, vicious vindication at being able to surprise the Fire Lord so openly. The vindication slowly faded, but everything else Zuko expected to feel didn’t rise to the surface; there was no respect or joy or happiness at the reunion. There was, for one of the first times that he could remember, no fear or shame. Ozai reached for something behind the throne.

“Don’t.” Taking off the mask made another wave of surprise wash over Ozai’s face before he could stop himself from reacting. “There’s no point in trying to delay this. It’s over.”

“You’ve come back to kill me.” Ozai allowed sardonic amusement to cross his features. “I knew I shouldn’t have been merciful to you.”

“Steal the throne with violence and bloodshed. I learned that from you,” he said, quietly, tying the mask to his waist securely and unsheathing his swords. “You should have let Azulon kill me instead of letting Mom take the fall. Then, maybe, you wouldn’t be brought to justice by your supposed greatest failure.”

The words felt like wounds to himself to say out loud, and he hated that there was still some tiny part of himself that hoped Ozai would deny the truth in them and offer him explanations that included love and acceptance and pride.

Ozai snorted. “As though the likes of you could kill me, let alone the ideals the nation and I share.”

It hit home too squarely; Zuko _knew_ it wasn’t just as easy as being rid of Ozai. But he simply snarled at his father and held his swords steady. “We’ll see how it goes, once the Avatar is in control of this nation and the war is over.”

“I’m surprised the Avatar isn’t here himself. He decided to trust _you_ , of all people, to do this task for him? Or, perhaps, you’re not as far from the blood in your veins, after all, and you guessed Azula would be waiting for him at the end of a trap...”

Zuko’s blood ran cold. He hadn’t considered that possibility. _Why_ hadn’t he considered that possibility? Suddenly unsure whether to finish Ozai and then find Aang or rush out to ensure Azula didn’t ever get to hurt him again, Zuko’s arm wavered. And Ozai’s predator grin widened.

“You are as much your mother’s son as you are mine. I have often wondered what would have become of you if she hadn’t abandoned you after doing despicable things.”

“If you wondered so much,” Zuko spat, “then you shouldn’t have killed her.”

Ozai laughed, loud and long. “Oh, Zuko. You’re an _idiot_ child. Of course I wouldn’t kill your mother. That would implicate me.” Zuko’s entire body froze. “She’s been alive all these years. Would you like me to tell you all about all she did before she _chose_ to leave this palace? To leave _you_ behind?”

He wanted little more than to say yes and to finally dig into the truth, as much as it would hurt. But delaying meant that he would fail in this duty. And that would mean it would be passed back to Aang’s shoulders. And... Aang saved small creatures from puddles. Aang pouted at training schedules and chased clouds and made faces out of his morning porridge. Aang saw the good in everything and loved strangers without motive and he _could not_ let this man before him ruin Aang in any way. Not even by being a heavy weight on his conscience for the rest of his existence. And so he simply raised his swords again and took steps toward Ozai that he wished were steadier.

“The past cannot be changed,” he said. “But the future can be. I _learned_ things, Father. Suffering was a good teacher. I will not let you pass that sentence onto _anybody_ else. Especially not Aang. If I have to do _despicable things_ to protect him... So be it, as Agni witnesses.”

_Everything I've done, I've done to protect you._

Zuko had never seen the expression that appeared on Ozai’s face before. It was a fleeting thing, quickly replaced with a snarl of rage, but it struck something deep inside Zuko with an echo he could not understand. Hands shaking slightly, he raised his swords.

“I wish you’d died at birth and saved me even this effort,” Ozai spat.

And Zuko’s world suddenly filled with crackling, agonising blue.

»»-------------xxiii.-------------««

Whatever trepidation and shame had dominated Zuko’s emotions as they were first escorted into the Order of the White Lotus base camp by Pakku and the other Masters was very quickly replaced by irritation. They’d expected Aang’s sweeping speech – which he’d done incredibly well; Zuko was very proud of the way he’d carried himself and been so eloquent and stirring – to be universally accepted by every White Lotus member, but there were a handful who started arguing _as soon_ as Aang was finished. One said that he was against the White Lotus becoming a military organisation of any kind which, as Toph pointed out, made his presence at the camp a rather stupid decision, on his point. The man had spluttered and raged and gotten a little feedback from those who agreed with him, but he ultimately ran out of steam.

The other most loudly outspoken of the dissenters was a man by the name of Xai Bau, who very firmly gave his opinion that the White Lotus remain completely unaffiliated with every _power_ , including the Avatar. He wanted the White Lotus to be a place of inclusion for all – particularly those with very special knowledge, especially bending knowledge – from all the nations. Aligning with the Avatar would turn the White Lotus into just another political arm like the Dai Li, or worse.

“The Order has always helped find and train and protect the Avatar, where necessary, Xai Bau,” Pakku pointed out, his face very barely hiding his anger.

“This is taking things a step entirely too far, Pakku,” Xai Bau snapped back. “This is putting those who believe in the White Lotus’ ethos – the quest for truth above all else – under the Avatar’s cause. Giving him the right to command our unique benders and minds and other talents.”

“Um, you do know that there’s a _war_ going on, right?” Sokka asked, exasperated, flinging his hands up. “And that the Fire Lord is going to use Sozin’s Comet to _ravage_ places. That seems like a pretty huge truth to seek to me. Just saying.”

“Ending the war and affiliating with the Avatar do not have to be mutually inclusive. Especially if the Avatar’s purpose is not quite as important as legend over these past one hundred years has made it.”

“Oh, no, of course, we’ll just let you rule the Fire Nation, as you wish to, and then rip the veil between the Spirit World and mortal world to create a new age. That’s much saner than joining the Avatar, who has helped the world retain balance for millennia,” Jeong Jeong said with heavy sarcasm.

“You want to – _what_?” Aang gaped.

“Governments cause more problems than they’re worth,” Xai Bau snapped at Jeong Jeong.

“Then give up your claim to the Fire Nation throne,” the other Firebender snarled.

“To _whom_? You? The banished deserter who does not even have citizenship? Or to the _prince_ of the Fire Nation who refuses to take the throne; who ensures at every chance he gets that we all know he will abdicate once his brother is dethroned? Or, perhaps, you would all have the Avatar become the next Fire Lord.”

There was an uncomfortable pause - they hadn't talked about Aang taking over temporary rulership of the Fire Nation since the failed invasion - and Xai Bau laughed, cruelly. Zuko didn’t really hear Aang’s stuttered response; he was too busy reeling at the knowledge that Uncle didn’t want to rule. If he really had abdicated, and refused to fight Xai Bau in an Agni Kai... then this man had a legitimate claim to the throne. Even Sozin hadn’t been able to unpick the laws of conquering succession that had existed before the Fire Nation unified. It made Zuko’s head spin at the implications of _this man_ replacing Ozai – as much as Xai Bau would stop the war and possibly undo some of Ozai’s evil, he’d also wreak havoc in other areas. And then Zuko was very suddenly snapped right back into the conversation when one woman loudly yelled that she’d fetched the Grand Lotus at the same time that Xai Bau, mockingly but seriously, challenged Aang to an Agni Kai for the throne.

“No,” Aang said. Xai Bau, hands suddenly on fire, took a few steps toward Aang, and Aang took steps back. “I don’t want to fight you.”

The words, and the break in Aang’s voice, and somebody sniggering on the sidelines made some control in Zuko _snap_ , letting rage rise hot and fast and roaring. All he could think about was how he’d sleepily pulled Aang close just the night before because he’d been whimpering in his sleep, and how gangly and awkward and small the kid had felt as he snuggled close into Zuko’s chest.

Not another thirteen-year-old boy. _Never_ again. _Never_ in front of him.

_Seething_ in rage, teeth bared into a snarl, Zuko surged forward and stood before Aang, head and shoulders back. Aang let out a gasped whimper and clung to the back of Zuko’s tunic, whispering his name.

“Are you to fight in the Avatar’s stead?” Xai Bau mocked. “You taught him Firebending, did you not? What do _you_ say to the Agni Kai?”

Zuko wordlessly took off his dao swords and tossed them at Sokka, and then began working at his mask.

“You don’t have to do this,” Aang said, sounding miserable.

“Step back. This isn’t your fight,” Zuko told him, quietly. “And hold this for me.”

“I am Xai Bau, son of Shoji and Noki. I issue you the challenge of an Agni Kai for the right to challenge the throne from the current Fire Lord.”

He gave Aang his mask. Somebody in the crowd let out a gasp.

“I am Zuko, son of Fire Lord Ozai and Lady Ursa. And I accept your challenge,” Zuko spat at him, and took great, vindictive pleasure at the pure shock on the faces around him, Xai Bau’s deeper than many.

“Make this hsuanning toad worm lick Agni’s _ass_ , Sparky,” Toph snarled from the sidelines.

This was not for glory, or for a birthright he no longer felt like he could claim. This was for Aang, who had to take on the world and who deserved all the protection he could get. This was to right a wrong that should never have been done, which was what a twelve-year-old boy with too much sunshine in his heart for this world had taught him. And Zuko was proud to represent the Avatar as he faced the man he was confident he would beat simply because Xai Bau was as empty as too many of the Fire Lords of the past few years, and it was time to replace the emptiness with something _full_ and _alive_.

When the fight was done, and his opponent had yielded, Aang’s arms snaked around Zuko from behind. He said nothing, and Zuko understood anyway.


	4. Sokka

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter** : Mentions of Yue and her death, mentions of prison, some non graphic violence and injury descriptions.

»»-------------vi. -------------««

Infiltrating Zhao’s crew was laughably easy, and filled Zuko with a kind of spite he hadn’t felt in years. Still, he remained on his guard, and spent the long hours of awake watchfulness planning (daydreaming) exactly how he’d steal the Avatar right from under Zhao’s nose once they reached the North Pole.

Of course, none of Zuko’s plans had taken into consideration the fact that Zhao was absolutely unhinged.

The moment to turn away without being noticed was presented flawlessly, and Zuko found himself not taking it, choosing instead to hesitate as he stared at the Admiral as he scooped up the _moon spirit_ and made the landscape around them go dark. Uncle, Piandao, the crazy super old Earth Kingdom man who refused to give Zuko his name but let him pet his giant rabbit, and even many of Zuko’s tutors growing up had stressed the sanctity of the Spirits. Their importance. Their long-lasting vindication. And even if Zuko could be dismissive about minor Spirits and how only other nations thought them worthy of devotion, this was the _moon_. It took less than a boy who’d lived on the ocean so often in the past three years to understand that Zhao’s actions would do more than just weaken the Waterbenders and affect a small part of the Spirit World. He just... he _couldn’t do nothing_.

And so, some inner voice snarling at him for his pathetic weakness, Zuko stepped away from where he’d overheard the Avatar was and closer towards Zhao. Tried to distract him by revealing himself. Tried to buy those Water Tribe people standing around some time. But there was little he could do with flames weakened by the cold around him, especially when he was trying hard to be careful and not to hit anybody except Zhao. And the bag with the Moon Spirit burned. Even knowing he was too late, Zuko threw himself at Zhao.

He wasn’t the only one, though, and the Water Tribe people present didn’t seem to take into consideration that he had, in fact, been trying to help. Things got incredibly fuzzy after the blow to the head, but Zuko remembered, vaguely, some young Water Tribe boy and a girl with white hair both talking down other Water Tribe members from killing Zuko. When he regained consciousness, he’d been dragged somewhere else, and managed to stagger to his feet just in time to see the Avatar for the first time, surrounded by the Ocean Spirit.

In the fear and the confusion that followed, Zuko near forgot about the Water Tribe boy and how he’d saved his life.

»»-------------xi.-------------««

The sudden strangled noise was loud and horrified enough that Zuko reached for his swords automatically, tensing as he looked for the source of the threat. Sokka was pointing at him, eyes huge.

“It’s _you_ ,” he rasped, and Zuko realised he’d gone very pale.

“Sokka. What’s going on; what’s wrong?” his sister asked, reaching for his tunic and tugging, her face concerned. Aang turned around where he was sitting on Appa’s head.

“This is – I didn’t realise because of the mask but... This is the guy. From the North Pole. The one who fought Zhao. The _Firebender_.”

“How did – ?” The realisation punched Zuko in the gut as he finally looked closer at Sokka. “You were there,” he answered himself.

“Wow, this is a pretty small world, huh?” Aang said, voice _too_ chipper. “Looks like maybe we were meant to meet earlier, huh?”

“Are you not _getting what I just said_?” Sokka yelled, still pale. He gestured wildly at Zuko. “ _Firebender_. We just told a _Firebender_ about the Day of Black Sun!”

There was a beat of silence in which Katara’s gaze on him turned incredibly wary. “Wow, yeah, that was a pretty dumb move,” Toph snorted.

All eyes except Toph’s and Appa’s landed on Zuko, everybody seemingly waiting for him to speak. To explain and defend himself and put them all at ease. Agni, even Sokka, who had just _accused_ him, was looking at him with thinly veiled hope on his face. And it made Zuko’s insides churn with anger and frustration and irritation and shame in equal measures, even as his skin crawled at the realisation that this young man in front of him had saved his life. He was indebted to the close friend of the Avatar; a man who would definitely get hurt should Zuko inform the Fire Nation of the invasion plan.

“We have to figure out where we can hold him prisoner,” Sokka eventually said.

“What?” Aang and Toph said in unison, the latter sounding much more angry than shocked.

“Aang... he isn’t exactly denying anything,” Katara said, one hand on her water pouch but face troubled as she eyed Zuko.

“What do you want the guy to deny? That he can bend fire?” Toph snapped.

“If he was gonna turn us in, then why did he save us?” Aang said, imploringly.

“Um, to win our trust and get more information out of us so he could feed it all back to the Fire Nation?”

Zuko’s insides twisted and he clenched his teeth, wanting to snarl denial. But the words wouldn’t come; for some reason, not knowing whether he was lying or telling the truth was rendering him mute. Toph threw up her hands.

“Oh, by Koh’s _coils_.” Carefully, she crawled over to Zuko and patted him down until she could clamp an arm around his wrist. “I can tell if people are lying based on their heartbeats,” she explained.

“Now you’re just making shit up,” Zuko said, incredulous.

Toph grinned at him. “Nope. I’m fully serious – I’m just that awesome. Well. It doesn’t work so well on sand and in water; need to feel the vibrations. But. Here I have direct access to his pulse. So I _will_ be able to tell. Will this calm you down, Snozzles?”

“Who _are_ you?” Sokka demanded, at once, and Zuko didn’t miss that the Water Tribe boy had moved closer and was very protectively leaning toward Toph. Ready to pull her away from Zuko at the smallest false move. “What are you really here for? Who sent you? What are you going to do with the information you got today?”

“One at a time, Sokka,” Katara admonished. “He can’t _answer_ if you don’t give him time. What’s your name?” she said to Zuko, just as guarded as her brother. “For starters. And to give Toph a baseline.”

“Lee,” Zuko said, automatically. But Lee was the name of a White Lotus member who saved villages and made little boys happy that they had the same name. Lee was not the person who would capture the Avatar and his friends for the Fire Nation. Who he’d become was not necessarily who he was, any more, and he knew it a moment after he’d given his years-old alias.

Toph hummed. “It’s... not _not_ the truth?”

“People mostly know me as Lee,” he settled on, because Sokka’s hands started waving in a series of elaborate _you see_? gestures that threatened to topple him.

“That’s the truth,” Toph confirmed.

“Where are the rest of your military buddies?” Sokka asked. “I figure you got a new... whatever... after Zhao died.”

Sokka’s voice was cold, but Aang flinched and shrunk into himself a little. “I didn’t. I was never part of the military.”

“Truth,” Toph said, sounding surprised.

“Then what were you doing in the North Pole with the Fire Nation military?” Katara asked.

“I wasn’t _with_ them,” Zuko snapped, temper finally flaring enough to loosen his tongue. “Look. I’m not even Fire Nation any more, okay? I got banished. I was walking around the Earth Kingdom, got offered a job, and ran into Toph, who was in trouble. And now here we are. This wasn’t... orchestrated.” As though he would be able to _plan_ something this elaborate and successful, a sneering voice in his head said.

“All true,” Toph confirmed.

“Why’d you get kicked out?”

“Sokka,” Katara hissed at him, her frown turning to her brother.

“ _What_? He got tossed out of the evil place where anything evil is seen as good. We gotta know _why_.”

“Obviously the same reason he helped me and stood up against that Zhao guy at the North Pole,” Toph interjected.

Sokka hesitated, and then looked at Zuko warily. “Why _did_ you step in?”

“Because the Spirits aren’t something you hsuan around with.” Zuko let his gaze bore into Sokka’s. “Because hsuanning with things that old and sacred messes up the whole world in ways we might not even imagine, no matter what side of the war you’re on.” He glanced at Katara, and then at Aang, before staring down Sokka again. “How _did_ you undo Zhao’s... actions?”

Sokka’s face rippled, and he looked away, swallowing. “Princess Yue,” he said, very quietly. “She was... she became the new Moon Spirit.” Then he shook himself and pointed at Zuko. “This doesn’t change that you heard the Day of Black Sun plans! And are – _were_ – Fire Nation. And you’re not exactly clamouring to tell us you won’t turn us in! So we have to... we have to do _something_ to make you _not talk_.”

Zuko kept his gaze. “You’re the one who chose to save me, back at the North Pole,” he said, quietly, flatly. He wondered if Sokka knew that, by Fire Nation custom, he owed Sokka the equivalent to his life. He wondered what the Fire Nation would rule as less honourable – handing over the man who saved you, or keeping incredibly important information away from the Fire Lord. He wondered if their ruling on the matter would be _right_. “ _You_ have to figure out how much you regret that now.”

Slowly, Toph let go of Zuko’s wrist. The tension continued to thicken, and Zuko realised that Katara was silent because she was torn, and Aang had hunched in around himself, looking sad and... guilty? Sokka slowly relaxed.

“I’m not going to kill you,” he said, lowly, and Aang jerked up with a surprised noise, eyes huge.

“That was never even an option!” Aang cried, glancing around at everybody in turn.

Sokka didn’t react; simply continued to meet Zuko’s eyes. Katara was watching her brother carefully, and Zuko had the sense that he was missing something because he didn’t know Water Tribe customs. “And I... don’t. Regret saving you.” It made Zuko jerk, just a little, because he’d expected his question to remain rhetorical, at best, or for him to receive a very different answer to the one he was given, at worst. “Maybe we won’t even regret _telling_ you everything, either,” he said, softly contemplative as he and Zuko continued to stare one another down.

»»-------------xvi.-------------««

Once they got Aang onto Appa’s saddle and Appa into the air, neither Katara nor Toph let go of their respective holds on Aang’s body, leaving Sokka to fly Appa alone. Zuko sat, huddled into himself, against the far corner of Appa’s saddle, feeling hollow and horrified and lost, again, watching without seeing how Toph kept track of Aang’s heartbeat and Katara’s glowing hands tried desperately to heal more of the damage Aang’s body had sustained from the lightning.

Azula’s lightning. Because Zuko hadn’t been fast enough. Good enough. Decisive enough. 

If he’d just thrown his all into bringing Azula down instead of trying to talk her into surrendering as she had in the Earth Kingdom village, then perhaps Aang wouldn’t have been injured. Wouldn’t have _died_. Zuko _should_ have thrown his all into bringing Azula down. He _knew_ how dangerous she was, and _knew_ how like Father she was. But it had been her and Mai and Ty Lee against the _five_ of them, and that had already been unfairly numbered even _before_ Aang started glowing. He hadn’t wanted to injure his sister. And he’d ended up nearly getting the Avatar killed. As well as having his past finally revealed to his friends in what was probably the worst possible way.

He couldn’t help but read into the heavy silence the same sorts of bad omens that had come from silences in his past. And, as much as he ruthlessly tried to push it all away, he couldn’t stop the heartbreak from trying to well up. These people had been his friends; the first ones he’d ever truly had. And, all he could hope for in that moment of tense silence under the stars, was that they’d let him get off Appa before they landed in the Water Tribe camp in Chameleon Bay, instead of simply handing him straight over to the Water Tribe leaders. Agni knew what _they_ would do with him – he wasn’t much of a bargaining chip, but he was also _intimately_ aware that not everybody was as willing to get over their hatred for all things Fire Nation as his friends were.

Had been.

Sokka’s soft swearing made Zuko glance his way and note the distress in his shoulders, clenched hands, pinched face. Glancing at the silent huddle of the women and Aang, Zuko slowly, cautiously, crawled up behind Sokka, warily ready to defend any blows that came his way.

“What’s wrong?” Zuko asked him, in a low voice, and then winced at the stupidity of the question.

“It looks different when it’s dark out,” Sokka whispered back, voice a little choked. “And Aang was driving last time... I’m not... I’m not _sure_ we’re going the right way.”

Wryly thanking Jee in his head for the long hours of – often unwanted – navigation training, Zuko recalled the map Sokka had been shown as he glanced at the stars. “See that cluster over there? The, um, ones that look like an arrow?” _Leading yourself to your own execution_ Azula’s voice sneered in his head. “Go slightly diagonally to the head, and you’ll fly over the bay.”

Sokka relaxed visibly as he corrected Appa’s course a little. “Thanks,” he breathed. Zuko only nodded, and made to withdraw. Sokka glanced at the movement. “You can, uh, stay up here, you know.” Zuko obviously didn’t manage to rein in his expressions correctly, because Sokka’s frown deepened. “What? What’s going on?” Zuko looked away and the silence stretched as he grappled with words that wouldn’t come. “Is this... about, uh... Azula? And... what she said?”

“I know the Water Tribe chief is your father,” Zuko blurted, still looking at the dark night sky around them and not Sokka. “I know... what that means. Trust me.” His laugh was short and humourless. “But... could you... would you consider letting me run? Instead of turning me in to him?”

“ _What_?” Sokka all but squawked, and Zuko heard somebody behind them on the saddle jerk a little in surprise. Zuko risked a glance at Sokka and found him gaping. “What do you – why – what – ” He spluttered for a little bit longer, and then fell silent. Zuko let him think, tense as he waited for the sentencing, wondering if he would be able to get off Appa and run as they were landing before anybody tried to stop him. “Azula seems like the sort to hold a grudge.”

The non-sequitur made Zuko blink. “Yeah,” he said, slowly. 

“So won’t she... be after you?”

“Sokka, I just helped stop the Fire Nation _finally_ conquering Ba Sing Se. Even if they don’t find out that I’ve been teaching Aang or recruiting rebels for three years, I’ll be fully branded a traitor to the Fire Nation, the throne _and_ the royal family.” Sokka stared at him. “Every person loyal to the current ideals of the Fire Nation will be wanting me dead, and most will be all too happy to make me so,” he clarified.

Sokka made a quiet noise of disapproval, still looking at Zuko with a frown. “Why not stay with us, then? Safety in numbers.”

“You... want me to...?” Zuko shook his head, quickly, and plunged on before Sokka had to answer that question. “It would be better for me to continue finding people who will agree to back Aang as he defeats the Fire Lord – like we were doing in Ba Sing Se, but on a bigger scale. It would help more than me being imprisoned in a Water Tribe camp.”

“Impri – why would you – you’re not going to be _imprisoned_.”

“You’re not going to tell your father that I’m Ozai’s son?” Zuko challenged, and the words felt strange and cold and bitter on his tongue after not having said them for so many years.

“They won’t _care_. No, no, listen!” Sokka said, urgently, when Zuko let out an utterly disbelieving scoff. Sokka let go of Appa’s reins with one hand and gripped Zuko’s elbow urgently. “I know Dad, and I know Bato, and I’m reasonably sure of the others. They’ll be a little wary in the beginning – and they have to be; this is war, and the Fire Nation just tried to take Ba Sing Se. But we’ll _tell_ them. And they’ll _see_ after a day or two, and then they’ll see you just like we do.”

“Like... you guys do?” It was not what Zuko wanted to say, but it was what came blurting, surprised and fragile, out of his mouth.

The hand on his elbow squeezed. “Lee – _Zuko_. Trust me. Please, trust me. Water Tribe don’t treat their prisoners wrong. And if you’re not released in a week, I’ll break you out myself. I swear.”

“Sokka – ”

“We need you. Aang’s going to wake up and be fine and need to keep learning Firebending. And we can use somebody who knows Fire Nation culture and geography and tactics. And you haven’t finished teaching me swordsmanship, yet! And, and, and – Toph. Toph will be super pissed off if you leave. And Katara will have to do the whole parenting role thing alone again, which will make _her_ super mad, and you know Katara; you don’t want her mad. You can’t – please don’t go.” They locked eyes, and Zuko realised how much older Sokka actually was than his years and usual antics declared. “ _Trust_ me,” Sokka insisted.

“Okay. I – okay.”

It was as difficult and as easy as letting Sokka put a sword to his neck. After all, he already owed the man his life.

»»-------------xix-------------««

Zuko didn’t press, even though Sokka’s skulking became irritating after a few days. Eventually, three days before the invasion, Sokka came to find Zuko on his night watch carrying something wrapped haphazardly in a cloth. The fact that he hadn’t waited for Zuko to be in the tent they shared with Aang said something, and Zuko suffered through the smalltalk.

Until, without preamble: “You lost the Blue Spirit mask in Ba Sing Se.” Zuko simply nodded. “Well. Uh. I figured it would be important to hide your identity on the Day of Black Sun. So that they don’t suddenly go all Fire Nation honour vendetta bounty on you.” Hesitantly, Sokka unwrapped the package to show a wooden mask painted in greys, dark blues and black, with the slightest white accents. “I had some time on watch, and there was driftwood so I figured... I couldn’t really remember what the paint looked like, though, so I made it more like the Water Tribe war paint. So you’d fit in.”

“Is that... okay? For _me_ to wear it?” Even as Zuko asked, he reached out and took the mask, running fingers across the paint with a heavy feeling in his chest that both hurt and felt gloriously warm and good.

“Yes,” Sokka said, firmly. “You’re with us, now.” Zuko gave him an unsure look. “Dad even saw me making it,” Sokka confirmed. “So, if you want it...” He shrugged, a little self-conciously.

“Thank you,” Zuko rasped, and pulled the mask closer, still tracing over the wolf warrior’s likeness in the wood.

That was the face Sokka stared dumbly at, wolf warrior helmet battered and chipped, as, around them, Firebenders rapidly began to gain their Firebending abilities back. The chaos, contained during the eclipse, began to reach a new crescendo. Katara was yelling at them to move, panic obvious under the steel in her words. Zuko subconsciously wrapped one arm firmer around his ribs and placed the other on Sokka’s shoulder, shaking his friend a little before repeating the command.

“We have to go.”

“But...”

Sokka kept staring at the Water Tribe mask on Zuko’s face, and Zuko wanted to rip it off and burn it even as he repeated the directive to leave. To run away from the rest of the invasion force, who was either fleeing, or standing their ground against the swarms of Fire Nation military in an attempt to allow others to flee. Zuko didn’t need to look to know what branch Chief Hakoda would be in, and he hated that he was asking Sokka to leave behind his father to be dragged into Ozai’s captivity. And he hated himself even more for doing it while mostly dressed as Water Tribe.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko choked, and it was for so many things he didn’t even know where to start. “Sokka, we have to go. Aang... We’ll try again. We’ll get everybody out. We’ll come back with a bigger force. We’ll...”

“Sokka! Zuko! _Run_ , hurry, come on!”

Sokka put his hand on Zuko’s shoulder, and they stood for a brief moment in what even Zuko could recognise was an oath. “We will,” Zuko all but whispered to Sokka. “Trust me.”

Sokka lost the haunted little boy look and nodded, suddenly all firm resolve again. He righted the wolf helmet and then started toward the others and Appa, letting Zuko fall into step just behind him. Zuko didn’t look back at the palace once.

»»-------------xxv.-------------««

The plan had been very desperate and even more foolish even when it had just consisted of ‘impersonate guards to break Hakoda and Bato out of prison’. In their defence, things had been going surprisingly according to plan – they’d managed to convince Aang to let them borrow Appa, had snuck out without a member of the White Lotus catching wind of what they were doing, had somehow managed to fly Appa in without anybody realising, had found a way to sneak into the prison and had been all but handed guard uniforms thanks to Sokka’s quick talking. And then, of course, everything got complicated very, very quickly.

“What is so important,” Zuko hissed furiously at Sokka, slipping into the cell his friend had muttered he had to meet him at _very quickly_ , “that you’re risking – ”

Zuko stopped short. The cell was _occupied_ by a prisoner. And one he recognised at once.

“Zuko,” Sokka said, obviously elated and proud. “This is – ”

“ _Zuko_ ,” Suki interrupted, incredulous.

“Suki!” Zuko said back, a grin starting on his face.

Sokka deflated. “Wait, wait, you two _know_ each other already?”

Careful of the sharp parts of the guard’s uniform, Suki flung her arms around Zuko and hugged him tight for a moment. “Small world,” she said, grinning as she stepped back. “Although, Uncle would say it was fate or something.”

“He’s gonna have _something_ to say about this,” Zuko muttered.

“ _How_ do you two know each other?” Sokka interjected.

Suki and Zuko shared a look and a quick smile. “He tried to burn down my village,” Suki said, cheerfully.

“I – that’s not – ! I didn’t _even_ ,” Zuko protested.

“But you were thinking very, very seriously about it,” Suki said, still far too cheerful. “And I take the thought as counting. Now. Explain to me _again_ why you two hsuanning idiots broke _into_ the Boling Rock?”

It wasn’t the first time they had to explain themselves, but Suki, at least, was more bemused than worried-angry, as Hakoda had been in the beginning. She explained, in brief, how she and the other Kyoshi Warriors had been arrested by Fire Nation forces at the secret pass, and how she’d been taken to the Boiling Rock as the leader, while her girls had been taken elsewhere. Suki’s escape became as important as Hakoda and Bato’s, but just as Sokka and Zuko put their heads together during the next meal in the prison mess hall to try and factor Suki into the plan, the next surprise appeared.

“Koh’s _coils_. What is she doing here? And why is she allowed to eat with the guards?” Sokka hissed, appalled, as he and Zuko watched Mai and Ty Lee walk across the room.

“Her uncle is the warden,” Zuko replied, noting that they were not the only people in guard uniform giving the two women looks of some distrustful fashion. Some guards looked wary, and others looked downright sour at her presence.

“If either of them recognise us...” 

“You’re going to think I’m crazy,” Zuko said, slowly, “but... maybe we _should_ let them know it’s us.” Sokka all but choked on air, and Zuko laid a hand on his shoulder. “Her uncle or not, Mai is in prison clothes. They both are. Which means they got imprisoned for some reason or another after the failed Ba Sing Se coup.” Sokka stopped spluttering and tipped his head to the side a little, mouth pulling into a thoughtful frown. “But they’re also getting preferential treatment. I think... I think we may actually get the Warden to _help_ us if we’re helping Mai at the same time.”

“How do we know they won’t just run right off to Azula to tell her everything?”

“We don’t; not really. Same way we never _really_ know if _anybody_ we’re recruiting into the rebellion forces is genuine. Or if they’ll crack under pressure in a month’s time. Even if they do run back to Azula... there’s very little advantage to her knowing that we broke your dad and his best friend out of prison. If we play only the family angle, it will look only personal.”

Sokka asked for time to think about it, and Zuko gave it to him, content to let Sokka’s much more strategic mind poke holes into Zuko’s assumption. But Sokka came to him the next morning agreeing with the plan, and so they cornered Mai and Ty Lee in their shared cell – which was much better than any of the others by far – and Zuko revealed himself by taking off the guard helmet, telling them only that they were there to get Hakoda and Bato out, but that they were offering a potential mutually beneficial partnership.

“You really, really are helping the Avatar,” Ty Lee said, voice small. “To stop the Fire Lord.”

“I am,” Zuko agreed, glancing from Ty Lee to Mai and then holding Mai’s narrowed eyes.

“I could tell my uncle who you were, and he could use you as a means to get me out of here,” she said, dispassionately, ignoring Ty Lee’s shocked exclamation and Sokka’s tensing.

“You know that won’t work.” Zuko gave her a humourless half-smile. “Ozai would send people here to _take_ me, and your uncle would only be... reprimanded... for attempting to strong-arm the Fire Lord. The most he could do was send me to Ozai and hope that Ozai rewarded him for his loyalty. And we all know that won’t happen. _Especially_ since you’re _in_ prison. And not just any – the Boiling Rock. Whatever they sentenced you with, it’s not going to be undone just because you caught me. Even if you are Azula’s friends.”

Mai continued to stare at him, while Ty Lee’s eyes flicked from one person to the next. “You’re serious. About stopping Ozai.”

“Yes. It can’t go on like this, Mai. The Avatar isn’t just saving the other nations from the Fire Nation – he’s saving the Fire Nation from itself. I stand by what I said in Ba Sing Se. I know Azula’s been your friend for years, but...”

“’Zula’s changed,” Ty Lee said, quietly, cringing a little under Mai’s black glare of warning. But then she stuck her chin up, ignored Mai and said, “Zuko... she was... something’s been wrong for a long time. I don’t even know what... I don’t know how to explain it, but she’s been _off_. And then Ba Sing Se happened, and the Fire Lord put almost all the blame of the failure on her shoulders... It’s... she’s not okay.” Ty Lee bit her lip. “She’s the one who had us sent here.”

Something hard and cold lodged itself in Zuko’s chest, somewhere near the place that remembered joyous family holidays on Ember Island and Azula sneaking him treats when he was sick and spending evenings playing covert soldiers in the dark palace gardens and hallways. “What...” He hesitated, unsure of what to ask. Unsure of what he was feeling when one side was worried and the other was relieved at the knowledge that one of their biggest enemies wouldn’t be on their best game.

When the silence went on too long, Sokka stepped in, his shoulder casually nudging against Zuko’s and then staying there, a light but distinct weight. He reiterated that they could all help each other escape, answered all Mai’s monotonous suspicions with calm, firm authority, and then nudged Zuko into leaving, telling the two women to think about what they’d said. Zuko turned back at the door.

“I’m sure your uncle knows a place for you to hide when you’re out of here, but... I can also give you the location of a man we know.”

Ty Lee gasped. “Like... like a rebel leader? Are you... are you asking us to go against the Fire Nation?”

“I’m asking you to think about everything with a clear head. And to make a decision on what Fire Nation you want to be loyal to. And what you want your role to be in the coming days. The Avatar _will_ stop the Fire Lord. And Azula. Things _are_ going to change. If you decide you wanna be part of that change... there’s a very serious vetting process you’ll both have to go through to make sure you aren’t just spies but...” He shrugged, once, eyes flicking from one woman to the next.

“You would have made a great Fire Lord, Zuko,” Ty Lee said, very softly, more serious than he’d ever heard her. He gave her a wry, twisted smile.

“He _will_ make a great Fire Lord,” Sokka corrected, grinning. “I’m not _exactly_ sure how, but Zuko beat a dude in an Agni Kai, and he’s now first in line to take the throne from Ozai and Azula.”

Ty Lee’s eyes went huge and Mai slowly uncrossed her arms. “You swear you’ll make it look like you dragged Ty Lee and I out of here against our wills as leverage? You swear you’ll spare my uncle the dishonour?”

“I _swear_ ,” Zuko promised her, and Mai’s tiny little nod was all they needed.

“Meet us back here tomorrow. I’ll have a plan for you, then.”

“This is so exciting!” Ty Lee gushed. “I thought we’d be in here _forever_!”

Zuko gave them both a nod and left, waiting until he and Sokka were in some very deserted hallway before asking, “Are you... okay with me just having...?”

“Part of me thinks you’re insane, trusting those two. But...” Sokka shrugged and gave Zuko an easy smile. “I’ve learned to trust your judgement on things like this, pal. It’s as much a calculated risk as everybody else we’ve sent to the recruiters. Okay, maybe a _little_ bit riskier than the average people we’ve sent to the recruiters. But, at this stage in the game... we need all the help we can get.”

Sokka smacked himself in the forehead, groaning about his choice of words, the very next day when they found out how many people wanted in on the escape attempt. What had started out a two-man for two-man job had turned into Sokka and Zuko leading eleven people out of the Boiling Rock, most who swore they were in there because of rebellious attempts against the Fire Lord. Zuko and Sokka fed them the vague information about the rebellion recruiters, and the men and women all seemed delighted that they could join something more organised, and pull their contacts on the outside into the rebellion as well.

“Calculated risk,” Sokka kept muttering to himself, managing to hide most of the panic as the plan unfolded much like a landslide gathering speed down a mountain.

He only balked at the part of the plan that involved Zuko going to the coolers. The Warden insisted it was the only way to prove that he’d done all he could to punish ‘the high traitor’, but Sokka dug his heels in.

“You don’t understand, Dad,” Zuko overheard him hissing to Hakoda. “The guy honestly has the self-preservation of a gopher lemming. He’s fine and great at survival until something precious to him is threatened. Then he _will_ fling himself off cliffs. And that last part is not only a metaphor! Katara and I have snatched him out of thin air more than once.”

“And this counts as ‘something precious’ to him,” Hakoda murmured back in a tone of quiet realisation. “Because it’s for his nation. And because it’s for _you_. Family.”

The embarrassment seemed to sear through Zuko, but Sokka didn’t even seem to flinch at the weight of the truth Hakoda was handing to him, as though it were simple fact that he’d accepted, without shame, a long time ago. Instead of protests or even mumbling, all Sokka said was, “ _Please_ don’t let him do this, Dad. I’m... actually scared he’ll die in there.”

Zuko did not die in the coolers, but Hakoda did have to carry him out because his legs wouldn’t quite support him. He tried to squirm away and help with the rest of the escape plan, but the Water Tribe chief firmly – but gently – tucked him under one arm and a collection of people’s thin jail cell blankets until his fire sparked back to life inside of him again. Even then, Zuko could feel the gazes watching him carefully as he moved around.

They let Mai tie up her uncle so she could be sure he wasn’t manhandled, and then they made their escape with great fanfare and, Zuko could admit, a decent performance on everybody’s parts. As long as the Warden didn’t change his story, he and Mai’s family would be safe from any further disgrace and ruin. As promised, he gave Mai and Ty Lee the name of the nearest recruiter when she and the other prisoners separated their stolen balloon from Appa.

“So. I suppose after breaking people out of a top security prison, facing the Fire Lord with an army behind you probably seems easier,” Bato teased lightly.

“Never mind that we’ve tried that before,” Hakoda teased back.

“Our army is bigger,” Sokka bragged. “Way, _way_ bigger. And more organised. And more powerful. _And_ we have a lot of the local citizens on our side, so even though they won’t fight, they’ll be loyal when the Fire Lord is overthrown.”

“You _have_ been busy,” Hakoda said, and his proud smile moved to include Zuko, as well.

“We’ll tell you all about it when we get back to camp. Assuming we’re still alive by the time Pakku and the other White Lotus Masters are done with us.”

Hakoda gave them a confused look, Suki snorted and Bato sighed long-sufferingly. “You didn’t tell them you were going to a maximum security prison in order to break in to stage a break out?” he asked, dryly.

“Not... uh... hmmm...” Sokka hedged.

Suki smirked and folded her arms. “Did you run the idea past them and they expressly forbade it and you did it anyway?” she guessed.

Zuko and Sokka exchanged a look. “Well,” Sokka said.

“Uh,” Zuko said.

“Your children,” Bato said, gesturing to the two boys.

Hakoda only laughed, and swore he’d help stand up for them against the White Lotus’ ire. And Zuko realised only as Appa set down in the camp of very angry looking old people that he wasn’t afraid because he trusted Hakoda to do just as he’d promised.


	5. Katara

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter** : Mentions of illness and non-graphic injury, mentions of the Air Nomad genocide, non graphic descriptions of seeing dead bodies and of people dying, descriptions and talk about Bloodbending, talk of bending causing death, using common Zutara tropes as BFF scene material. ;)
> 
> The Bloodbending thing, Zuko telling Katara about Fire Nation people and the chat about the Air Nomads and why Sozin had to make his attack a sneak attack are all things I've done in, I think, slightly more detail in the mythical second chapter of _Battles_. Since I haven't posted that after more than a year of the first chapter coming out, I decided to recycle the concepts for here. Just in case it never sees the light of day because, I've started to realise, if I don't write the fic in one go it won't easily be done. Just to disclaim that I know I'm copying my own work/I'm unoriginal, for all those reading this in a few years time, or whatever.

»»-------------xiii.-------------««

The slightly sick, heavy feeling in him didn’t go away after he and Aang talked and he agreed to teach the kid Firebending, and Zuko wasn’t sure if it was because he was miserable at himself for betraying Ozai _again_ and finally, once and for all, killing any hope he had of getting home, or because the kid still had to go and convince the others that Zuko should stay. He should have been used to rejections after how many he’d received over the years, but he wasn’t yet hardened to them as he _should_ have been. Perhaps it was because he was genuinely starting to like Toph in all her crude, straightforward glory that didn’t hide the fact that she was as decent inside as anybody he’d met.

After a long conversation that Zuko only caught the cadences of, Aang called him over to come and eat with them. Dinner was tense and awkward and involved a lot of snapping at one another – and not _always_ about him and whether it was their right to ask him whatever they wanted to ask or not – and it just made Zuko feel worse and worse. His plan was to get up and slink away, but he only managed to stand and take a few steps before the whole world turned itself over.

“Lee?”

The voice came from very, very far away. “I don’t... feel so good...”

He registered pain in his hand as he tried to reach out to grab something, and was still puzzling at it when everything faded out.

Azula was there, and the flickering of her fire made her face change between how she’d been at ten, and how she was now at fourteen. The smirk was the same in both years. “Father is going to kill you,” she taunted him. Her fire was bright blue, and hot enough that Zuko could feel himself sweating.

“You’re lying. You always lie,” Zuko told her.

“No, that was Uncle, remember?” Azula purred. She was changing form, slowly becoming a dragon, her fire not losing its intense heat. “He didn’t tell you what you had to do to earn your way home.” Slowly, lovingly, she curled around him. “You still could, though. Zuzu, the opportunity is right here in front of you. You could come home. Everything would be as it was.”

“I...”

“No!” Uncle’s voice was sharp enough that Zuko jerked to the left. “Do not listen to the blue dragon,” the red dragon said, snarling through bared teeth.

“You can come home,” the blue dragon crooned, nestling close. Her breath felt like cool water being wiped across his face. “Just capture the Avatar. Just bring him to the Fire Lord. And Father will love you again. You just need to prove you’re worthy of love, Zuko.”

“You... No. It can’t... it _can’t_ be the same... Mom’s gone, Azula. You’re _lying_.”

“Break free, Zuko,” the red dragon urged him. “You have work to do.”

“What’s worse, Zuzu? Lying, or proving yourself disloyal to the throne again and again?” The blue dragon let him go, and, suddenly, Azula was in front of him again. But it was wrong. There was blood on her chest that was spreading and spreading. In front of his eyes, the skin around her eye began to blister and burn. “Is this what you want?” his little sister asked. “You want me and Daddy dead, Zuzu? What about Mom?”

“Zuko!” Mom’s voice was frantic, somewhere in the middle of Azula’s flames. “Zuko, my love, please! Please help me!”

“ _Mom_!” He started forward, trying to dispel Azula’s fire, but his Firebending wouldn’t work. “No, no, no...”

The shadow of his mother disappeared, and Azula melted along with her, still whispering his name as she went. Her melted form fused with the figures on the ground that Zuko could finally see as the fire died down. The same figures from the Western Air temple.

Aang sat in the middle of them, mournfully reaching out to caress the old, dusty bones around him. “Does it matter that somebody _tried_ to save them?” he asked Zuko, sadly. “Did it make a difference? What is worse – the Fire Nation being dishonourable in the first place, or being dishonourable to the Fire Nation in order to correct its mistakes?”

Uncle walked gravely to Aang’s side, staring at the sight before him. “Leaves on the vine,” he sang. “Falling so slow.” Behind him, Ba Sing Se burned, the stone walls slowly peeling apart and flying away in the wind as Uncle continued to sing. They’d never really had a funeral for Lu Ten, and he’d been the crown prince. “Zuko. I just wanted to protect you.”

“I hate you for this. And I never want to see you again.”

“Oh, Zuko.”

It was the _tone_ that pierced him; that same tone from Piandao’s house what seemed like an age ago. Said to a boy that Zuko didn’t feel he was any more. The heartbreak and sorrow in those two words; the hope and disappointment and... _love_. So much hopeful love. Uncle bowed his head and began to disappear into darkness.

“Wait, no, I – _Uncle_.”

“Brave soldier boy, comes marching home.”

The darkness came rushing at him, twisting around him tightly, pinning his arms into place. Zuko fought it, looking for Uncle, for Mom, for Azula. But the form that came from the darkness, looming above him as he kneeled, was none of the people he wanted to see.

“You haven’t learned,” Ozai said, almost sounding bored in his disappointment. “You haven’t suffered enough, it seems. Perhaps the Avatar will learn quicker.”

The darkness lit up as Ozai’s hand, full of fire, descended.

And Zuko shot upright, gasping for breath. Something moved to his left and his arms shot up instinctively, protectively covering his face even as they trembled from the exertion. He felt like an overcooked noodle; every bit of him ached and trembled where he slumped.

“It’s okay, it’s okay, it’s just me. Katara, remember? We met when you saved Appa. We’re giving you a lift to Ba Sing Se.” Zuko lowered his arms in an exhausted slump and forced his aching head to turn so he could see the Water Tribe girl sitting to his left. He was... in somebody’s sleeping bag, in a tent. Katara smiled at him, a little. “You fell ill,” she explained, still sitting very still with her hands very obviously on display. _Not a threat_ , her body language was screaming, and it made Zuko so embarrassed that he wanted to rage. But he had no energy in him to do more than stare and try to shake off the last of the... dream? He couldn’t remember details, but the emotions were clinging to his thudding heart with a vice grip. “I’m a healer, but I’m, um, not _entirely_ sure what you had, so I’ve just been keeping you cool and hydrated. And, um, I also took the time to heal all your other injuries.” Zuko touched a hand to his side and found, to his surprise, that it no longer hurt.

“I’m – do you have water?” She nodded, and handed him a water skin. He drank deeply, relishing the water, only stopping when he realised she was watching him. “Uh... thanks.” He handed the skin back, and she set it to one side. “I’m – how long was I out of it?”

“Almost three days,” she said. “You did wake up a few times, but you weren’t making much sense, so I’m not surprised you don’t remember.”

“I’m sorry,” he said, awkwardly. “You guys could have... gone.”

She frowned at him, affronted. “I don’t turn my back on people who need me.” Her chin jutted out. “And _don’t_ start on how you would have been totally fine without us. It’s utter crap, and you know it.”

“I wasn’t going to say that,” Zuko found the energy to snap.

“Well, I’m _sorry_ that I assumed you were going to based on your gemsbok bull-headedness when we met you, injured and half-starving in the desert,” Katara snapped back, eyes narrowed and posture spoiling for a fight.

Instead of being able to defend himself, Zuko broke into coughs, which meant Katara lowered her hackles and ended up patting him on the back, soothingly until he could get air.

“You’ll be okay,” she said, softly. “You just have to give it another day or so.”

“You’re going to wait around that long?” he asked, incredulous. “I thought you _had_ to get to Ba Sing Se.”

“A few days here or there won’t _really_ make a difference. Aang has spent it practising Earthbending, which he needs work in, still. And practising what he’s going to say to the Earth King.”

“You could have travelled with me and used the fever as an opportunity to quietly stick me somewhere,” Zuko challenged.

“Yes,” she agreed. “We could have. But we didn’t. Because we’re _good people_. Even Sokka didn’t mention it.” They eyed each other for a long while. “You... said some things. While you were really feverish. Much of it didn’t make sense at all, but, um... Your mom...” Zuko tensed. Katara sighed, and touched at her bare throat. “The Fire Nation... took my mother away from me,” she blurted out in a rush.

Zuko’s shoulders slumped, and he looked at his hands in his lap. “I’m sorry,” he said, quietly. “That’s... something that we have in common.”

He glanced up to catch her nodding, looking as though he’d confirmed a suspicion she’d had. Her eyes locked onto his scar, and she hesitantly opened her mouth. Zuko grit his teeth, hands clenching into fists, and Katara looked away. Unlike Song, she didn’t reach out to touch.

“If you don’t betray us, you’ll be the first good Fire Nation person I’ve ever met,” she said, quietly, and Zuko’s stomach filled with rocks and then disappeared. She took a deep breath and looked at him, shoulders squared. “I’m glad you’re staying with us, Lee. To teach Aang Firebending.”

He couldn’t meet her eyes, and she sighed, a little. Zuko wondered if she regretted healing him, now that he wasn’t declaring that her kindness hadn’t changed everything and he was absolutely certain he would never turn Aang in. Even though... He mentally shook off the vestigaes of the dream that were trying to clamour back into his head.

“Whose sleeping bag is this?”

“Sokka’s.” There was a smirk in Katara’s voice. “He’s really grossed out about it, too, so you should play up how much you sweated in it.”

Despite himself, Zuko found himself giving her the beginning twitches of a smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

Katara grinned back. 

»»-------------xiv.-------------««

The _incident_ with Ju Dee shook them all more than a little. As much as Zuko wanted to wear the mask all the time in order to hide his face, he started leaving it off in fear that the Blue Spirit wanted posters would make their way into Long Feng’s hands. Instead, he let Katara carefully style his hair so that it hid his scar a little better, her hands deft and gentle as she worked out snags he hadn’t bothered to deal with in a while; not since Zhao’s reveal had him questioning if he’d had the right to let it grow out long. Sokka ribbed him a bit for the style, but Aang and Toph stood up for him and, after hearing some of the other things the group teased each other about, Zuko recognised the gesture as something very suspiciously like friendship from the Water Tribe male.

“It’ll only matter in the upper rings,” he said, when Katara fretted around her work, more than half of him entirely uncertain how he felt about her hands being so close to his scar. And _in his hair_. He wasn’t Fire Nation any more, but he couldn’t make that logic overwhelm the embarrassed, squirming horror of her fingers just... _carding through his hair_ without any hesitation on her part. “In the lower rings there are enough refugees that burn scars aren’t... Uncommon.”

He hoped, not for the first time, that the Misty Palms Oasis really _had_ sent the ostrich horse back to Song.

“I don’t...” Katara hesitated, and her hands stopped in mid-air, too. “I don’t think it needs to be hidden _anywhere_ ,” she said, voice small and unsure as she tried to navigate something she didn’t seem to have president for. “I don’t... there’s nothing wrong with your face. You know that, right, Lee?”

He clenched his jaw tight and she removed her hands to her lap at once, watching him with a peculiar expression he couldn’t name. “We don’t need anything making us very identifiable,” he mumbled.

“Right. You’re right,” she said, instead of pointing out that two Water Tribe people, the Air Nomad tattooed Avatar and a blind kid were already enough distinguishing factors to make their anonymity marginal at the very best.

During the day, they did Dai Li-approved activities, for the most part, and had casual conversations with a few nobles and other important figures in the city, planting seeds about the war but being very careful not to say anything that would give Long Feng the opportunity to put an even tighter leash on them. At night or when one or two of them could slip away unseen, they talked to some of the refugees. Always under the guise of getting some goods or services from them, but with much franker talk about the war and its possibilities. It only took about two weeks before Zuko came clean about the White Lotus to his new group, figuring that they’d trusted him with the Day of Black Sun and that the best thing for everybody was getting Aang and the White Lotus to join forces, as their end goal was the same. He didn’t tell them everything, of course, but gave them enough that they all started recruiting Ba Sing Se refugees into the White Lotus rebel army, applying the tactics Zuko had learned under Uncle: carefully identify potential rebels, feed them into a recruiter, and let the recruiter slowly but surely vet them and test them and let them further and further into the know-how.

It was easier than he’d expected, finding White Lotus recruiters in the city. They weren’t people Zuko knew, and he made sure to bite on his tongue to keep himself asking about Uncle, just playing it off like he’d been recruited in himself. Which wasn’t even that much of a lie – and he would know about what counted as lying and what didn’t with absolute nuance now that he’d met Toph and her uncanny ability to call him out on things. The others met a guy Zuko was wary of named Jet, who had, apparently, had his own little rebel army going at some stage. They were slightly wary of him, too, but, after long discussions, they decided to send him to the White Lotus recruiter, hoping he’d take his friends along if the White Lotus managed to convince him to play according to their rules. Which included not entirely hating Fire Nation people on principle. Zuko found out first hand how difficult that would be for the man when Jet found out about his bending and whipped out his swords in the middle of the street, leading to Toph having to restrain him and beat some sense into him before the Dai Li caught wind of it.

In the dead of night, once everybody else had retired to their rooms in the house they were being lavishly hosted in, Zuko put on the mask and slipped out the window. At first, it was because of the refugees he caught huddling in corners and ducking in shadows; those who were as skittish as pygmy pumas and did all they could to hide their golden eyes. It didn’t take long for the Blue Spirit to be helping more than just Fire Nation people, however. He just... he _couldn’t do nothing_.

It took only a little longer than _that_ for Zuko to realise he wasn’t as sneaky as he thought he was. One night he took a different path home, coming up on the other side of the roof, and nearly fell off when he found Katara quietly sitting in the little alcove, bending elaborate patterns out of a dish of water that looked like it lived outside. He hesitated, but she only glanced his way and then went on bending. He went to his room without saying anything, but lay awake a long time listening to Sokka snoring.

The stories of the Blue Spirit started circulating, and everybody else started weighing in on the fact that he’d been sneaking out without telling them, and _still_ Katara said nothing, not even in private. Eventually, he grew so frustrated waiting for the other shoe to drop that he purposefully went to sit beside her on the roof, taking his mask off as he did.

“Why are you up here?” he asked, trying to sound intimidating and unbothered that she knew who he was.

“I’ve always found it difficult to sleep early. Maybe something to do with the moon.” She gave Yue a quick smile. “And... it’s time to sit and _think_ about things without interruptions.”

“What do you think about?” he asked.

“I really miss papaya,” she said, and Zuko started laughing, hard enough he had to muffle it with his hand, Katara sniggering into her arm beside him. They fell silent for a long while. “Is the Blue Spirit a Fire Nation story?” she asked, suddenly.

“No. Actually, he doesn’t exist. This is a theatre mask for the Dark Water Spirit. He’s a character in a Fire Nation Play.”

“The evil guy is a water spirit, huh?” she asked, quietly. Her mouth twisted, wryly. “Figures.”

He conceded her point with a tip of his head, feeling ashamed for how much he loved the play when faced with her perspective on it. “Uh... the main character isn’t a great guy, either? In the beginning. He has time to get better and realise what’s really important and – ”

The words stuck fast in Zuko’s throat as the realisation punched him, almost hilarious in how painfully _personal_ it had all become in more ways than the play simply being a fond memory of his mother and his family when it had once been whole. Or, at the very least, when it had _seemed_ whole. 

“Go on,” Katara encouraged. “I want to hear about Fire Nation legends and stories.”

They ended up exchanging; she told him about Water Tribe legends, and even about the Cave of Two Lovers, and he told her Fire Nation plays and myths about their spirits and sea shanties of unknown origin that Jee and the crew had told him. It became a sort of nightly ritual when he returned from being the Blue Spirit, and Katara hardly ever scolded him as she healed him on the occasions he needed healing. In return, he barely scoffed when she asked him to tell her about the Painted Lady _again_.

One night, when the moon was nothing but a sliver and he could still see how troubled she looked, Katara looked at him with old eyes and asked, “Could you... could you just... tell me stories about Fire Nation people who are good. Please. I just... I need to know more than just you.”

He obliged, starting with funny reminiscing about people he’d known, especially on Ma’inka Island, but, as time went on, he quietly and sombrely told her about the grieving mothers who gave children’s clothes they would not need any more to those who had children in need. He told her about the jovial ex-soldiers dismissed for permanent injuries, and those embittered but still good, loyal children to their families with the last shreds of themselves they had left.

Katara ended up curled into his side, and he carefully did not comment when his shoulder became wet..

»»-------------xx.-------------««

They all tumbled off of Appa in a bit of a daze, still unable to really grasp the fact that the invasion that they’d spent so much time planning had failed so spectacularly. The absence of adults was something sharp and hollow all at once as they all stood and stared at one another, realising there was nobody around to tell them what to do next.

“I’ll start some dinner,” Katara eventually said, even though Zuko was relatively sure nobody would really want to eat.

Or maybe it was just him who felt sick and heavy leaden, weighed down by his failure to stop Ozai and the memories of the _last_ time he’d been at the Western Air Temple. It was almost hilarious, the way that this upside down place was always the one to welcome him when he’d failed where Ozai was concerned.

Zuko quietly helped to offload what few supplies Appa had on him, intending to set up camp around Katara’s cooking fire. But he moved wrong, and his side _screamed_ in enough pain that he actually wavered down to one knee, and every other eye in the place was suddenly on him. He couldn’t wave them away – not even by getting angry and snapping at them; they ignored him and worked together to manhandle him to Katara’s side, and then his shirt was being lifted without his permission and Aang gasped at the same time Sokka let out a strangled noise.

“That’s... _Tui and La,_ Zuko. That’s a _lightning_ wound.”

“What the hsuan?” Toph snapped, tense as an erhu string. “You were just going to _hide that_ _from us_?”

“It’s not a full strike wound,” he argued back. “I just didn’t redirect it, properly. Uncle never _fully_ explained it, so I just kind of... had to try make it up on the spot, and it didn’t work properly.”

Sokka swore again as Aang, looking horrified, traced the wound’s path from the gaping, ugly gash on his side to the angry, red, slightly weeping firebursts out, some of which reached rather far up his chest.

“Wait, wait, wait.” Toph got to her feet, hands clenched. “I thought only the royal family knew how to bend lightning. Your uncle wasn’t there. Crazy was with _us_. Which means you were a total husanning idiot, and went after Ozai today, didn’t you?”

“You... _what_?” If Aang had been horrified before, there was no description for the expression his face took on then.

“It doesn’t _matter_ ,” Zuko snapped. “I didn’t manage to _do_ anything to him. I was _right there_ , and I failed. We left so many people behind, because I _once again_ couldn’t just...”

The silence was heavy. “You nearly _died_ today, is what you did,” Katara said, her voice cold and shaking in fury.

Things had been rocky between them since Ba Sing Se and the revelation of who he really was and the fact that his presence made the Council of Five refuse to give their promised troops for the Day of Black Sun invasion plan – they’d still been cordial, but the easy closeness had been very obviously missing. Right then, she was staring at him with rage that made him instinctively tense.

“Uh... we’re going to go and do important things in the next room,” Sokka said, hurriedly, and then all but dragged Aang and Toph away despite their protests.

“Are you going to let me heal it?” she asked, frostily. “Or is that not according to your super secret plan?”

Zuko, already feeling cornered, reacted to the threat by baring his teeth and straightening his spine despite how much the action hurt. “What do you _want_ me to say, Katara?” he snapped. “I looked Ozai in the face, and he told me my mother maybe isn’t dead and I _got distracted_ enough that I didn’t kill him and didn’t end the war, and now your father and so many other good people are captured. I screwed up. _Again_. I _tried_ to help and, when it counted most, I didn’t end up making any difference. I _don’t know what else you want from me_.”

Katara’s face puckered. “Tui and La... What _about_ you apologise for running off without telling anybody and nearly _getting killed_? You’re lucky you just _happened_ to be able to mostly re-create the lightning bending technique. And if you hadn’t? How would we have learned what happened to you, Zuko, huh? You would have left us, and we wouldn’t have known where you were or what happened to you. Possibly not _ever_.”

“Aang has mastered Firebending enough that –”

“ _Hsuan your stupid hsuanning ass_. This _isn’t about_ – you _could have died_.” She yelled in frustration and violently flung her arms so that the fountain a little ways off froze. “You would have left us, too. You can’t keep... What will it take for you to get that we’d actually be _crushed_ if you died, you stupid gopher lemming?”

“ _Why_ do you and Sokka keep calling me that?” he snapped, because he was still trying to figure out how in Koh’s coils he was going to process – let alone reply to – the rest of her outburst.

“It’s an animal in the South Pole. About the size of an adult’s hand. They live in colonies and they’re really good at toughing it out in the rough conditions. Until they realise that the colony really doesn’t have enough food or shelter for survival. Then they either get so reckless in the pursuit for food or new shelter they end up killing themselves, or they full on just jump off cliffs in order to take themselves out so the rest of the colony has one less mouth to feed.” Zuko stared at her. Katara gestured at his side, still exposed under the rolled-up shirt. “Gopher lemming.”

“I’m not – I didn’t – Ozai needs to be stopped,” Zuko protested.

“Doesn’t mean you have to pay for that to happen,” Katara replied, quietly. Zuko’s chest tightened. “May I heal that, please?” she asked after a long silence.

Zuko nodded, and Katara called up water and began knitting his flesh together, wincing every time he couldn’t hold in a hiss or a groan. “I thought... You were mad at me.”

“I was.” She glanced up at him for a moment and then continued healing him. “I yelled at my dad, too, you know. I was mad at him for leaving us. I understood – understand – why. But I was still mad. I get mad when family feels like they’re slipping away.”

“I’m sorry. That I didn’t tell you... who I was.”

“I’m sorry I got scared enough about who you were I forgot, for a moment, who you are,” she replied, softly. One hand traced the now-healing wound across his side. “And I’m so sorry he got to do this to you again,” she whispered.

She seemed to understand why Zuko couldn’t find words, after that, so she helped him to his feet and to the fire and gave him the job of cutting the few carrots that had mysteriously appeared beside the fire during her healing session with Zuko. The people who had put it there were still conspicuously absent, but whether it was to give them space, to not have to be roped into cooking or because they’d found something worth exploring, Zuko wasn’t sure. He _was_ incredibly glad he and Uncle had reached the place, first, so Aang could explore the temple without having to run into anything absolutely devastating. Especially not after the day they’d just had.

“Tell me about good Fire Nation soldiers,” Katara said, suddenly.

Zuko, still peeling and chopping carrots, carefully so he avoided pulling on the still-tender wound, obliged. Katara scooted in closer, leaning into his uninjured side, and slowly relaxed as he talked, she listened, and they cooked together.

»»-------------xxi.-------------««

Finding the White Lotus leadership had sounded like an excellent plan when they’d thought about it after recruiting the assassin Sokka _insisted_ on calling Combustion Man, who warned them that their position was known by the Fire Lord and the Crown Princess. But actually _finding_ the White Lotus proved a lot more difficult than they’d anticipated. Every single known recruiter or informant had already moved on by the time they reached their last known location, and it had very quickly turned from worrying to annoying.

Disguised as Fire Nation citizens under Zuko’s directive, the team nevertheless used their attempts to find even a White Lotus _layperson_ to continue doing as they had been: training Aang, and recruiting as many people as possible into the rebellion. That deep in the heart of the Fire Nation, their recruitment tactics were less about discreetly finding members for the army and more about gently, but firmly, breaking people’s heads out of one hundred years of propaganda. Sometimes, it worked beautifully, and people wept when Aang revealed who he was. Other times...

Well. Appa flew fast, and they weren’t going in any discernable pattern, and it would take a while for the people’s messages that they’d spotted the Avatar to reach the Capitol.

Zuko trained Aang in Firebending and Sokka in swordsmanship and Toph in learning to read and write by putting little bits of earth in the ink before making the letters so she could use Earthbending to see them and Katara in cooking and mending, which he’d somehow picked up along the years and gotten incredibly good at. At night, he put on the Water Tribe-inspired mask. He’d only done it twice before Katara came up to him, her face determined.

“I’m coming with you.” It wasn’t a question.

“These are Fire Nation people,” he reminded her. “And... this probably won’t help us change their minds, because they won’t know who we are.”

“I know. I don’t turn my back on people who need me,” she said, firmly.

“You’ll need a mask,” he replied, simply.

“What does the Painted Lady look like, again?” At Zuko’s surprise, she lifted one hand to trace the paint on his mask. “ _You’re_ wearing Water Tribe. It seems... fitting.”

So he helped her find debris around the place to make a passable Painted Lady costume, and the two of them went into cities and towns and barely-there-any-more smatterings of houses. They even ended up in the town where the Painted Lady had first gained notoriety, and he let Katara save them mostly by herself, and felt himself grinning at her as she excitedly told him that she was _sure_ she’d seen the _real_ Painted Lady’s spirit for a moment there.

Her wanted poster cropped up after about a month. When she was sure nobody was looking, Katara took one and folded it carefully into her bag.

“Don’t tell Toph; she’s mad she hasn’t been able to find one of hers since she gave the last one away.”

Zuko shook his head, still amused. “You know. There are probably parents telling their kids about you at night. You’re basically a story about a good Fire Nation person, to them.”

Her expression was stunned, and then a little unsure, and Zuko wanted to kick himself as he realised how unsure she must be feeling, dressing like the nation that was her sworn enemy. He opened his mouth to try and do damage control, but Katara smiled at him, soft and sure. “I’m glad,” she said, quietly. “And may Agni grant them many more.”

The Fire Nation blessing came easily off her tongue. And Zuko breathed it in without any feeling of choking.

»»-------------xxii.-------------««

Zuko let Katara be comforted by her brother and Aang, knowing he was out of his depth and also, selfishly, trying to avoid having her ask if he needed healing. It wasn’t the same thing, really, but it while for Zuko to forget what it felt like having his body move beyond his control, his pulse fluttering unnaturally as he was puppeted around. But, eventually, Aang and Sokka went to help the rest of the villagers, especially those who had been kept prisoner, and Katara was left alone. She promptly curled into as small a ball as possible, forehead on her knees, and Zuko made his way to her on some instinct, trying very hard to hide the fact that he was limping.

He sat down beside her rather heavily, and she sniffed and moved her head side to side in a gallant effort to hide the fact that she was crying. “I’m so, so sorry,” she whispered into her knees, voice thick. “I’m... I...”

“You did what you had to do,” he said, firmly. “To save Aang and Sokka and Toph. You did the right thing.”

“No,” she choked. “Nothing at all about that was right.”

“She was right to be mad,” Zuko insisted, quiet but firm. “Her ways of dealing with her anger weren’t great, but...”

“She made living puppets out of people,” Katara snapped, finally lifting her head to glare. Her eyes were red-rimmed. “And she wanted to _torture_ you because of who helped birth you.” Her lip wobbled. “She made _me_ hurt you. And don’t even start, Zuko, because I _know_ it hurt, okay?”

Hesitantly, awkwardly, he put an arm around her shoulder and sort of patted her arm in a weak imitation of Sokka’s usual comfort. She let out a snort-hiccup at the gesture. “And now she’ll go back to the prison she was wrongly put in for all those years.”

“It could have been me,” Katara whispered. “Or my mom. If the Fire Nation guys who came for us had been taking prisoners...” Zuko instinctively pulled her closer. “And she could have killed us today. _You_. If she hadn’t been so bloodthirsty for a revenge as drawn out as her own suffering...”

“I never thought I’d understand how painfully necessary balance is,” Zuko commented, quietly. “Too far in any one direction and...”

Katara curled close, still crying a little. “Is it wrong that I want to help her and that I hate her at the same time?”

“No,” Zuko murmured. “No, I understand that completely.”

“I’ll never Bloodbend ever again,” she promised, firmly. “The secret to it will die with me.”

Zuko shook his head. “Don’t do that,” he said.

Katara sat up incredulously. “Zuko, it _controls people’s blood_.”

“It _can_ control people’s blood,” he argued. “But that’s just one use of it. What _else_ can Bloodbending do?”

“There is no other use for it – ”

“Make one,” Zuko challenged. “If Toph can invent Metalbending...”

“This isn’t just learning to move another naturally occurring thing! This is _people’s bodies_ , Zuko.”

Zuko sighed and rolled his eyes. “Katara. What is Waterbending most known for?” When she scowled at him, he answered himself: “Healing. What usually goes with being injured or sick? Blood. Just because the person who discovered the kind of bending used it for hsuanning things, doesn’t mean that’s its only use. Just... find others. There is _not_ one bad bending style or element. Just like there’s not _one_ bad nation. Remember that I had to learn that about Firebending? And Aang did, too. It’s not _just_ destruction. It’s just mostly used that way.”

“I don’t know... I don’t know if I’m willing to try it out to see _if_ there’s anything good that can come of it. I know that ice and even water can be used as a weapon, but it feels like those things need to be _forced_ into doing harm. Bloodbending... It’s just... No other bending _invades_ like that.”

“Katara...” He hesitated, looked around for Aang, and then turned back to her when it was confirmed that the Avatar was busy. “Do you know _why_ Sozin spent so much time ensuring that the Air Nomads would be ambushed?” he asked, quietly. She blinked at him, shocked, then slowly shook his head. “Because other attacks all failed spectacularly. No soldiers could ever get close after their initial attacks – the Airbenders simply killed them from miles away. Suffocation; the air was ripped from their lungs.” Katara jerked in shock, her mouth falling open. “There’s no one bad style of bending,” he reiterated, quietly. “And if _you_ don’t find the good side of Bloodbending, somebody else, somewhere down the line in history, will figure out how to use the bad. Hama was smart, but not one-in-a-kind.”

Katara wrapped her arms around her drawn-up knees again, and Zuko let her think about it. “Is it okay... can I wait, for a bit? Before having to face it again.”

“Are you seriously asking me for permission?”

“For advice, you ear mite,” she grumbled, nudging him. He smiled, and she mirrored the gesture. “Thank you,” she said, quietly and seriously.

He nudged her back. “Any time, Katara.”


	6. Suki

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter** : Brief mentions of arson, one very brief mention of abusive home situations, mentions of imprisonment, one very non-graphic mention of torture, Azula's mental health things are alluded to, and talk about complicated love for family members. 
> 
> Give me Suki and Zuko friendship, or give me death. 
> 
> Also, I could talk about Aang and his (lack of) character growth for hours. I honestly think he was the most short-changed in the show, except for secondary characters like Hama and Jet and Pakku, even. Let this kid have to face his problems and come out dealing with the very difficult solutions with people there to support him please and thank you.

»»-------------iii.-------------««

Slowly but surely, Zuko’s fire strengthened. Uncle started training him more vigorously, and no longer held back from throwing fire at Zuko’s face.

(They would never talk about what happened the first time Uncle had done that. Zuko had been _warned_ and he still – But he got better. He got better, he got better, he got better.)

Slowly but surely, it seemed as though Zuko’s acting about not hating the White Lotus and everything they stood for was accepted. After almost a year, Zuko and Uncle climbed on a ship, manned by the same crew as before (Zuko carefully noted their faces and names so he could give good descriptions when he handed in all the information about the organisation that he knew), bound for some island or another where there was a promising group of elite fighters that the White Lotus really wanted to recruit. Zuko spent much of the sea voyage – when he wasn’t being bossed around by the crew and, especially, the captain, into doing frustratingly inane things that he _was not_ growing to like, thanks very much – planning how he would undermine the White Lotus’ plan on the island and then escape to give all he could to the closest Fire Nation official.

But the island turned out to be _tiny,_ with only one, rather small, village and no incoming traffic, let alone a close Fire Nation official. Zuko thought about leaving his plan for the next place Uncle unwittingly took him, but ultimately decided that he would take a stand there when he saw how good the women with painted faces were at fighting. There was no way he could let these trained outsiders be pulled into a rebellion against the Fire Nation.

The night they were finally trusted enough to sleep on the island, Zuko got up and crept to the best place to start the blaze that would take the whole village, and lit his fists.

“You know, I was really hoping I was wrong about the hunch that you’d try this,” a voice commented, and Zuko threw fire at it instinctively.

The figure ducked his fire easily and pulled out her fans as she landed in a battle pose, and the two of them sized each other up.

“Who are you supposed to be?” Zuko snapped. She moved well, but she was young; his age, if not a little younger.

“I’m the leader of the Kyoshi Warriors,” the girl snapped back, unpainted face scowling. “And you’re supposed to be here offering peace. When your uncle said you were _having some time fully adjusting_ , I was really hoping it meant you hated Kyoshi food.”

“I’m not going to let any of you get away with this,” he snarled. “The Fire Lord will hear about all of this.”

“You’d turn your own uncle in?” Suki’s lip curled in disgust.

“He’s a _traitor_ ,” Zuko snarled back.

“He _should be_. _Nobody_ should stand behind what the Fire Nation holds as morals right now.”

“You know _nothing_.”

“I -! Hmm.” She looked at him, suddenly piercing, eyes narrowed in thought. “Okay,” she said, slowly. “Okay. It’s like getting girls from homes that aren’t great,” she said, mostly to herself. “How about this, hothands. You have two days to explain the Fire Nation’s view on things to me. I have two days to explain the rest of the world’s view on things to you. We both promise to truly listen to the other. If, by the end of two days, you _still_ think that the Fire Nation is right, I’ll let you torch this village.”

“You’re lying,” Zuko snarled.

In one swift movement, the woman used one fan to slice a line in her palm. She held it out, solemnly, the blood pooling lightly. “I swear with my blood,” she said, quietly.

Zuko stared at the line of red for a long time. “Fine,” he snapped. “But you’re just delaying the inevitable.”

Her smile wasn’t happy, but it didn’t look dangerous, either. “I’m Suki,” she said, and then waited long enough until he replied.

“Zuko,” he muttered, for the first time realising that maybe the gentle hints at getting an alias were a good idea. His name felt... _wrong_ on his tongue, given to this woman in this setting.

“Sunrise tomorrow,” Suki said. “Come to training with me and my girls.”

And then she turned around and walked away, allowing Zuko to set fire to the village behind her back. But he didn’t because (he was too weak and pathetic and wrong) he still did know what honour was, despite what his actions in front of Ozai and to date had shown.

He regretted making the deal almost every moment of the next four days. He didn’t want to know the things he suddenly knew.

“The Kyoshi Warriors would be honoured to aid the White Lotus in their quest,” Suki said at the end of the four days.

“Suki!” One of the older islanders looked at her in shock. “Are you sure?”

“I am,” she said, quietly. “We can’t stay out of this war. But we can’t join it in the way we’ve been thinking up until now, either. The Fire Nation isn’t...” She caught Zuko’s eye. “I think I understand too much and nothing at all,” she murmured. “In any case, this rebellion seems, to me, like the best course of action. Those who wish to leave the Kyoshi Warriors because they don’t want to be part of this will be excused without any shame.”

When they got back on the ship, Suki and Zuko bowed to each other, low and respectful and grave.

»»-------------xxvi.-------------««

“How did you end up in here, anyway?” Zuko asked Suki, quietly, sneakily feeding her bits of food through the bars in her cell with his hands behind his back.

“They caught us at the secret entrance to the Pass,” she said, ruefully. “Don’t you _dare_ say ‘I told you so’.”

“Technically, _Uncle_ told you so,” Zuko said, smugly, and then hissed when something sharp pinched him on the elbow, hard. “ _Ow_.”

“We managed to persuade so many people before we got found out, though,” she said, proudly. “And to help even more than that.”

“You did good. And I promise; we’ll find the rest of the Warriors as soon as we can.”

“The Warden’s niece knows where they are,” Suki said, tone darkening. “She and the preppy little chi blocker were there that day. Helped the hsuan of a Fire Nation Princess – ” Suki broke off. Zuko felt his back tensing. “Rumour has it you’re the Fire Lord’s son,” she said, far too casual.

“I was, once,” Zuko replied, softly. “And, uh... I... Well. It’s complicated, but I earned the right to challenge Azula for the right to be next in line for the throne.”

He risked a glance over his shoulder at Suki when the silence stretched. For a moment, her expression was cold, and then it softened. “That... it makes a lot of things from back when we met make a lot more sense,” she said, softly. And then she sighed. “Zuko...”

“What doesn’t make sense is how you ended up wanting to suck face with _Sokka_.”

Suki’s face was priceless in its shock. “When did you get sass?” she said, acting like she wasn’t blatantly blushing.

“When I met Toph. Once you meet her, it’ll make sense,” he said with a smirk.

“Looking forward to it. And looking forward to being friends with the Fire Lord.”

“Who said we’re friends?”

“Guard my cell, Zuko, and shut the hsuan up.”

»»-------------xxviii.-------------««

Despite having slept for most of the afternoon, Zuko was dozing when Suki quietly came to sit beside his bedroll, and only didn’t jump in surprise because people had been appearing and disappearing from his side all day.

“Go to sleep,” Suki whispered at him, one hand reaching out to touch the top of his head.

“Everybody okay?” Zuko asked her, instead, also keeping his voice low. Aang shifted very slightly where he was asleep curled under Zuko’s one arm, but otherwise didn’t stir. Toph, across his feet, didn’t move at all.

“The panel to decide what happens to Azula finally adjourned. No consensus was reached. Your uncle still looks a little shaken, but I think he’s okay. Katara is out for the count, but it’s just exhaustion. Sokka and Hakoda are with her and having quiet father-son bonding while they’re at it.” She was quiet for a moment, watching the younger ones as they slept. “They’re also changing the plan of attack, now that Azula is no longer a threat in the palace.” Another beat of hesitation. “Aang is going to be the one to face Ozai.”

Zuko’s heart clenched and stuttered a bit, painfully. Toph snuffled against him, one hand curling around his ankle, and Zuko breathed through the upset even as Suki leaned down, alarmed. “They can’t make him do that,” Zuko breathed, quietly furious. “It’s not _fair_ to ask him to have to do that.”

“You know I don’t agree with that assessment; never have,” Suki said, lowly. “I’ve said it five times, I’ll say it again – this _is_ the Avatar’s job. It’s been a hundred years of war. Ozai isn’t a person as much as he is a representative of a whole _culture_. You _know_ what Fire Nation people are brought up to think. You _know_ that, even with how hard we’ve worked to bring reform, it’s going to take _ages_ to make everybody truly believe the war is wrong and that Ozai wasn’t good and that turfing him is a good idea. If Aang isn’t the one to do it... Not only will the Fire Nation grumble that it’s just another family coup full of blood and ambition, but the rest of the world will do the same, and opportunists out there will use it as an excuse for their own agendas to grow in strength, using the Fire Nation as a scapegoat. We need _balance_. We need accountability on all sides – we need Aang to do this, and we need to be there to support and advise him.”

“Suki, he’s _thirteen_. And really, truly believes the Air Nomads’ ‘no killing’ rule has no exceptions at all. Asking him to face Ozai...”

“Will force him to face himself,” Suki interjected, firmly. “He’s thirteen, and that sucks, but it isn’t going to make it any easier for him if we mess things up and give him an even bigger pile of steaming shit to have to sort out once he’s sixteen, or whatever. There have been Air Nomad Avatars before. They figured it out. Aang has to be given the chance to, too. _For himself_. No more running, no more stalling, no more excuses. And, if he makes a wrong call, he’s gotta face that. _With us behind him_. Why can’t he have the chance at his own version of the journey you got?”

Zuko breathed steam a little, teeth grit painfully tight, and looked away. Suki was making far too much sense, and he didn’t like it one little bit. Her hand touched his forehead again.

“I know you’re scared for him,” she said, gently. “It’s not that I’m _not_. I love the kid, too. I just... love him enough to help him towards his destiny. Whatever it may be.”

“And you’re biased by Kyoshi’s way of Avatar-ing,” he grumbled.

“Maybe. You’re biased by the fact that your default is to fling yourself in front of people you love and danger. Which I’m going to kick your ass for, by the way, when you’re up to it. Uh, uh uh,” she tutted, when Zuko opened his mouth. “Better be nice to me – I’ve been given the authority to declare whether you’re healed enough to be in battle on the day of the Comet.”

“Seriously?” Zuko snarled, and Aang snuffled and shifted a bit more. Suki simply smirked and raised an eyebrow. “Where am I even being _reassigned_?”

“We’re not sure, yet. Probably where Katara gets reassigned; breaking you two up when we’ve already established your excellence in working as a duo wouldn’t be smart.”

“What does Aang think about all of this?”

“He’s the one who volunteered.” Shock was quickly followed by disbelief, and he gave Suki one of his best frowns. She rolled her eyes. “I’m serious. Nearly losing you – _again_ , from what I’ve heard – really rattled him. And, yes, if we thought he was only doing this out of guilt, we would have stopped him,” Suki said, even before Zuko could ask. “Zuko. You’re going to make an amazing Fire Lord. You have so many people – of so many nations – behind you. Not just Aang. Not just this group and what we all stand for. _You_. That is what you’re called to do. Let Aang have his part, okay?”

“I don’t want him to have to do this,” Zuko admitted, lowly.

“And we don’t want you to have to take on the burden of Ozai when this particular part of it is _not_ yours to bear,” Suki replied, firmly. “Plus... we’re all getting super tired of the royal family trying to kill you.” Zuko snorted a little, and then winced as it pulled on the new lightning would across his chest. Some of the tendrils overlapped with Ozai’s from a few months ago, funnily enough. “I’m going to go so you can get some sleep.” Suki stood, stretched a little, and fondly nudged his hand, prompting him to pat her on the ankle. At the entrance, Suki paused and looked back. “You really are okay, right?” she whispered.

“Katara is a great healer. I’m fine, Suki.”

She nodded, lingered for a moment longer, and then left. But Zuko saw her shadow, fans at the ready, walking patrol around his tent sometime later when he found himself caught between sleep and wakefulness, like she couldn’t help but ensure that no other surprises leaped out of the darkness intent on his blood.

»»-------------xxix.-------------««

“So _this_ is why Katara is in such a mood. I thought it might be,” Suki said, amused, as she sauntered up to where Zuko was catching his breath leaned against a tree.

“Should I stay away from the camp for a while, then?” he asked, dryly.

“Nah; she’s just glaring and banging pots pointedly. You’ll be fine. Besides, I doubt she’d want to undo all the healing work she’s done on you so far. And Uncle will come looking for you if you’re gone _too_ much longer.”

Zuko snorted and carefully pushed away from the tree, noting how Suki shifted closer, hands lifting just a little; ready to catch him if his legs buckled. But he held firm and hobbled just a little further to where there was a rock to sit on, carefully not wincing as he sat. The Comet was a week away, and he _had_ to be well enough to fight by then. Suki sat beside them, and they lapsed into easy silence.

“She’s actually mad because I was broaching a topic with her that she doesn’t like.”

“Oh, yeah?”

“Mmm. I’m not going to beat around the bush with you, though; I’m just going to ask you the impossible outright.”

“You want me and the girls to be your spiffy new bodyguards while tensions ease up?” Suki said. Zuko raised his eyebrow at her. “Toph heard you talking to Uncle and told me.”

“No privacy at all,” Zuko muttered, not even bothering to pretend to really be mad about it. “And that’s not the _impossible_.”

“You are pretty hard work,” she teased, and then grew serious. “What is it?” At Zuko’s hesitation, she gently tapped him on the arm. “You know we’re behind you; I’d follow you just about anywhere, Fire Lord.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep. Especially since Kyoshi is independent.”

“I’d follow you just about anywhere, Fire Lord,” she repeated, a grin on her face but seriousness in her tone.

Zuko sighed a little. “I want you to help me to get the White Lotus to agree that Azula can stay in the Fire Nation.”

“ _What_?”

“There’s a facility that I think might be able to – ”

“She tried to _kill_ you! And Aang. And _me_. And many other people. She personally near-tortured me and separated all my girls just because she knew that would break them. She’s _Ozai’s_ , Zuko.”

“But she’s also _mine_ , Suki, My sister. I _know_ – I know exactly what she’s like. And I know how much Ozai _twisted_ her for fourteen years but... Some of the things she said... Some of the things Mai and Ty Lee said about her... It’s _impossible_ to think she’d be able to have another chance but I think she deserves one. I want to give it to her. I want to give her the chance to have the journey I did. Just... the chance she never had.” He looked at her steadily. “Who could I have been if we hadn’t met four years ago?”

Suki stood up, face thunderous, hands clenching at her sides. Zuko stayed quiet and watched her pacing up and down.

“That’s a low blow,” she finally growled.

“It’s still true, though,” Zuko said, quietly. “You can think about it,” he said, after another silence. “I just... thought I’d ask before the Comet.” Suki gave him a sharp look. “Just being realistic,” he shrugged.

She exhaled deeply and relaxed with visible effort. “I’d follow you just about anywhere, Fire Lord,” she said, and Zuko waited for the _but not here_.

It did not come. She simply met his gaze, unhappy but steady, calm, sure. Trusting.

“ _Thank you_ ,” Zuko said, the relief and doubt equally as strong in him.


	7. Azula

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  **Warnings for this chapter** : Mentions of Azula's mental health - allusions and full on scenes about it. Mentions about war prisoners. Talk about being allowed to get help vs facing the consequences of your actions. Non-graphic mentions of injuries. Mean mentions of Zuko's scarring. This is the chapter the Gaang find out how Zuko got his scar and it's not in a very soft way. 
> 
> Thank you to Agent Calliope for writing the best Azula redemption fic and inspiring me daily.

»»-------------xv.-------------««

It was just... too convenient.

They finally got an audience with the king, who _believed_ them and threw Long Feng in prison and then revealed all sorts of amazing messages for nearly everybody in the group. The rest were all excited for their little field trips, but Zuko just couldn’t believe everything had tied up so neatly after so many weeks of hitting dead ends. He just couldn’t believe that Long Feng went down that easily. Maybe the rest were used to easy, tidy victories, but this would be Zuko’s first, and he didn’t trust it at all.

So, after Toph, Sokka and Aang left, Zuko slipped away from where Katara and Kuei were talking and returned to their house to get his mask. It was risky going out in the day, so he only slipped it on when he was closer to the palace and in the shadows. His intent was unclear – perhaps he wanted to visit Long Feng to ensure the man really was in prison. Perhaps he wanted to overhear the Council of Five when they didn’t know they were being listened to. Perhaps he wanted to tail the Dai Li. All he knew was that he felt unsettled by it all, and wouldn’t be able to shake the feeling until he’d done as many checks as he could.

Long Feng was, indeed, in prison, and, while Zuko was skulking in the shadows, nobody did anything suspicious. He was making his way to oversee King Kuei – just to be _sure_ – when a voice he knew all too well echoed from the chambers. Zuko’s blood froze and, for a moment, he was simply paralysed. Then he hurried to the edge of the balcony and peered over and had another moment of his heart clenching. There were three Kyoshi Warriors sat before the king, but the voice coming from the one in the middle was very definitely his sister’s.

Heart thudding, Zuko clambered down from his perch and tried to find Katara or a member of the Council of Five. He found the latter first, and tried to be patient as he explained to General Giung that the king was in danger. It took a few tries – him being masked really didn’t help – but, eventually, the man got it. He quickly sent the news out to other trusted individuals – luckily, the man was smart enough not to trust the Dai Li even with Long Feng imprisoned – and, as it spread, he and Zuko made their way to the throne room to be ready.

Giung went in declaring he had urgent matters to tell the king, and Zuko slipped off to the sidelines again. He watched Giung lean in to whisper in the king’s ear, and cursed, silently, when Kuei proved not to be a very stoic actor. He masked his original reaction, in the end, but it was _Azula_ before him; Zuko knew they were sunk, and hoped the reinforcements came quickly, and shoved his mask on even as he slunk closer.

“Is something the matter, Your Majesty?” Azula asked, silky smooth.

“Uh... just... something with... something else. Nothing to trouble yourself with,” Kuei said, trying to smile pleasantly.

“Of course,” Azula said, calmly.

Four beats later, without warning, she launched herself at the king, fire blazing. Giung was quick enough to react to save the king’s life, but not for much else. The other two dressed as Kyoshi Warriors followed Azula’s lead quickly, and Zuko could tell from the chi blocking exactly who one of his sister’s companions were. The other was easy to guess, based on the stories the others had told him.

Giung and the king were both sitting ducks, and Zuko could not allow the king of Ba Sing Se to fall. And so, knowing it was foolish, he flung himself into the fray. It didn’t take long at all for him to be overwhelmed, and, once he was down, the mask was ripped off. Sort-of familiar eyes widened.

“ _Agni_ ,” Ty Lee whispered in shock.

“Well! Look at that. It’s little Zuzu,” Azula said, but even her delivery was a beat or two too late, speaking to her surprise. “Imagine you being here to watch me do what your beloved Uncle Fatso could never achieve.” Zuko met her eyes and remained silent. As he’d expected, it unnerved her. “What’s wrong, Zuko? You usually have _so much_ to say when you’re on your knees in front of royalty.”

“Azula!” Ty Lee said, shocked.

Giung was trying to subtly herd the king to a more protected corner of the room. If they could just keep Azula’s attention for long enough that the guards could arrive, then they could have a chance at this.

“I’m not here for you,” he said, quietly. “I’m here for the Fire Nation.”

“It’s too many years too late to be patriotic, _brother_. You’re no longer part of our nation, let alone the royal family.”

“That doesn’t mean that I can just _stop_ having its best interests at heart.”

Azula’s smirk faded. “And what might that be?”

“No more people dying to keep a lie in power. No more refugees. No more impossible food taxes. No more people in other nations making their hearts evil to try and combat all the Fire Nation has done to them. Honour, Azula. I want to restore honour. And the Avatar is going to do it. He’s going to restore balance to the whole world; the Fire Nation included. We will once again be able to bear our history and our achievements with true pride.”

Ty Lee and even Mai were staring at him strangely, but Azula’s face had morphed to a scowl of rage. She looked so much like Mom, but with Ozai’s anger. “What useless filth,” she sneered. “You’ve grown even dumber since you were kicked out, Zuko. What? Was that inane drivel supposed to make me care?”

“No,” Zuko said, catching the movement out of the corner of his good eye. “It was meant to make you distracted.”

Azula whirled and the general dragged the king into safety and chaos erupted. Zuko couldn’t even blame the Earth Kingdom guards for choosing to save their king and themselves by sacrificing him to the wolves. After all, many of them had just learned of his heritage. What he _didn’t_ expect was for Katara to be at the bottom of the cavern he was dropped into. She explained that the fake Kyoshi Warriors had caught her off guard, and then healed some of Azula’s handywork on Zuko’s skin.

“The king is safe. The Dai Li who we know are loyal to Ba Sing Se and nothing else will help keep the others in check. We may be able to stop this coup, if Azula hasn’t gotten anything else up her sleeve.”

Katara frowned at him, a little, but let whatever was bugging her go. Together, they tried to plot an escape, very aware of the fact that Azula could run into Aang, who would be unaware, at any moment. And then, without warning, Toph, Aang and Sokka were suddenly all there, Aang babbling about seeing Katara in trouble and Katara explaining that they _all_ were; that Ba Sing Se was.

“I’m glad you think I’m that formidable. It’s true, of course, but it’s always good being appreciated.”

Azula, Ty Lee and Mai had rubbed off the Kyoshi makeup and had changed to plain black – or all pink, in Ty Lee’s case – clothing. The group all tensed and coiled into defensive stances. Zuko very pointedly put himself between Aang and Azula. The look she gave him was pure loathing for a moment before it smoothed into something open and amicable.

“You know, Zuko, Father need not know about the beginning of our reunion,” she said, silkily.

“Zu – what?” Sokka said, thrown.

Azula and Zuko both ignored him, even though Zuko’s heart had started to beat painfully and shame had started to curl in his gut and red hot along his face and neck.

“I’ll let you take some of the credit for capturing the Avatar. Then you can come back and live with us again. The Fire Nation will have her Crown Prince restored. Everything you wanted, and everything you lost. Come on, brother. You know where you really belong.”

Some half-remembered flash of a dream from somewhere skipped itself over Zuko’s mind; a dragon, saying very similar words. And then... Azula melting. His heart clenched despite it all, and he barely noticed the shocked shifting of the group beside and behind him.

“I do know, Azula,” he said, quietly. “Maybe, if you’d found me a year ago, I would have jumped at your offer. But I have seen too much suffering to turn my back on the people of the Fire Nation. Suffering really _was_ my teacher. And it taught me that Ozai _cannot_ be Fire Lord. This war _cannot_ continue. No matter what the cost.”

Her ugly look was back on her face, and her hands were simmering blue. But her voice was calm when she said, “Father should have done so much more than just banish you and burn off half your face.”

Toph made a choking noise that Zuko ignored. “Maybe,” he said, quietly. “I guess that was his bad, then.”

He caught Azula’s first attack, anticipating it, and left the rest of his friends to deal with Mai and Ty Lee while he drove his sister back and away from them. As good as the two were, the others had learned from previous fights with them, and they kept Tai Lee, especially, busy until Toph could simply encase her and Mai in rock. And lots of it. One moment, Zuko was barely surviving against Azula, and the next everybody was beside him, helping him drive her back. She was still sneaky, though, and powerful, and had most people on the run.

Without really knowing _how_ , Zuko suddenly had his sister backed against the wall. Her hands were encased in rock, and she was wide open, and he had fire on his fist and he just...

He met her eye and hesitated. Or made a choice; he wasn’t exactly sure which was true.

A moment later, Azula was free. And Zuko was thrown across the ground. And there was glowing, and Aang was rising into the air, and Zuko’s first thought was, again, for Azula, which quickly morphed into horrified thoughts about his sister of an entirely different kind as the air in front of her cracked blue.

“ _Aang_ ,” he screamed in warning, but it came too late.

Azula didn’t look back at him as she ran, but Zuko glanced the way she’d gone when they scooped up Aang and ran in the opposite direction, unsure of how safe Ba Sing Se was, unsure if it would fall, unsure if Aang would live despite Katara’s frantic healing with water from some oasis somewhere.

»»-------------xxvii.-------------««

The blue fire came so unexpectedly that, for a moment, Zuko thought it was water and Katara was trying to get in a sneak attack even though they’d declared their sparring over.

“What was – ?” Katara asked, staring at the blue in surprise.

And then another blast came, and the two rolled apart with a cry. They were on their feet again at once, in defensive stances, shifting automatically toward one another. Months of nightly vigilantism together had already made them work together seamlessly, and the last few weeks of intense training just outside the White Lotus camp had honed that even more. Enough that neither of them showed their shock through slacking their positions as their assailant came into view.

“Azula,” Katara said, sounding dumbstruck.

Zuko couldn’t blame her. His sister was thin and sallow and dirty and unkempt and... _Agni_. Her _hair_. Somebody had hacked off her hair. Too many years of drills on culture and propriety and honour made Zuko feel a flash of horror and anger on her behalf for a moment. Azula, snarling and breathing rather heavily, glared at Zuko in a way she never had before. Not even when he chose to stand against her under Ba Sing Se. And he remembered what Ty Lee had said about Ozai blaming her for the failure to take the city, and pity crashed hard and fast to meet the caution and the dislike.

“Found you,” she said to Zuko. “I _found you_. Father is treating me like Zuko, but I’m _not_ Zuko. I’m not you. I’ll drag you back and then he’ll have _you_ to treat like you, again. He’ll remember I’m _me_. And then Mom will shut up, too. She’ll _leave me alone_.”

Katara and Zuko looked at one another for a moment, attempting to see if the other had understood what had just been said. Katara gave a glance over to where the White Lotus camp was; hidden, and too far away for them to be heard. Would the guard on watch notice that the fighting wasn’t orange fire against blue water? Was Azula alone, or was the entire camp in danger? Zuko subtly nudged his head to the side. _Go get help. I’ll hold her off_. Katara frowned, deeply.

“Azula, what are you talking about?” Zuko said, finding that his sister’s eyes still pinned to him in that very unnerving way.

“You’re the failure, not me. _I’m_ going to be Fire Lord. Father promised. When he’s Phoenix King. It’s my throne. I’m good enough for it. I am. But you... you _ruined it_. Just like you ruin everything, you big hsuanning waste. You had Mom and you sent her away and now you’re making Father think I’m _you_.”

“Azula,” Katara said, and her voice was actually gentle. “I think you may – ”

“ _I’m not talking to you_ ,” Azula screamed at her, and sent a volley of fire her way.

“Katara!” Zuko yelped, his heart crashing against his ribcage in relief when he saw her roll easily to her feet. “Azula, _stop it_. If you’re here for me then _fight me_.” It wasn’t in the plan; others were set to take Azula down on the day of the Comet. But when had Zuko been good at not doing things stupid, half-baked and reckless? “ _Agni Kai_ , Azula. Right now.”

“Zuko – !”

“Katara, _go_ ,” Zuko roared at her as Azula let loose his way.

If her ranting hadn’t been proof that something was very wrong with his sister, then her bending would have been. She’d had better control when she’d been _six_. All her usual power was still there, but it was easy to evade. And easy enough to get a hit back in. Zuko had called for an Agni Kai just to distract her, really, but, as things continued, he was actually beginning to believe he might be able to beat her. Really, truly defeat her.

Azula seemed to be thinking the same thing. And it was making her _angry_. Around them, what little plant life had remained after many people using the space as a sparring ring for a while burned or smouldered out some foul scent. She relentlessly threw fire at him; wave after wave after wave. But Zuko had trained with Toph and Katara – he knew how to evade big. Snarling in rage, Azula increased her power, but Zuko still managed not to get hit.

And then something of his sister really seemed to return. Her smirk was part amusement at his expense and part scoffing. “I know how to make you hurt,” she declared, calmly.

The lightning sparked between her fingers, and Zuko really wished he’d remembered to ask Uncle for more pointed advice on redirection before this, but he readied himself as he had against Father and –

– saw Azula’s eyes slide to somewhere just beyond his right shoulder.

He understood, in that instant, and broke his stance to whirl around to see who it was. Katara. _No_.

Zuko acted instinctively. And there was nothing at all except agony and trying to remember how to breathe. Lucidity cut through at the strangest of moments, throwing him back into a body that was burning before dragging him back under into blackness. He’d never seen Katara’s face that angry before; she was livid, and Azula was falling back under her onslaught. They were... covered in water. Katara was in front of him, saying things, hands on his chest.

Breathing became possible. Clarity returned. He held a shaking Katara against his chest even though it hurt, and heard the footsteps thundering towards them, and looked across to find Azula contained, but alive. _Alive_.

“Thank you,” he whispered to Katara again, and didn’t have the time to explain what he meant. 

»»-------------xxx.-------------««

“Sozin’s Comet arrives in two days. We really don’t have time to be debating this.”

“Yes, we really do,” Zuko argued back, evenly. “Because this sets the precedence for how we’re going to handle war criminals in the coming days and weeks and months.”

Zuko saw Piandao’s eyebrows raise in approval. There was muttering around the room that grew louder and turned to arguing and then got called to order.

“The Princess needs to be held accountable for the crimes she committed. Not least against Ba Sing Se,” General How said.

“I’m not asking for lack of consequence,” Zuko said. “I’m asking that you let her be _her_ before you ask for penance. Right now, like this, she won’t be able to give you much. There is no justice in that.”

“As long as she’s around, she’s a potential threat,” Jeong Jeong said, quietly but firmly.

“And if she’s dead, nobody gets to see her face consequences,” Sokka said. “Look,” he said, in response to all the looks sent his way. “I don’t like the woman. At all. And I _really_ don’t like that she’s crazy powerful. But I don’t think an execution is the way to go. Especially not with her being... not all there.”

“She definitely should not be killed,” Aang interjected, firmly.

“And if this facility you’re proposing does nothing, Zuko?” Piandao asked.

“Three years. In three years, once everything has come to light and she’s been given time to heal and rebuilding has begun, we can meet to discuss consequences. Whatever state she’s in at the time.”

More muttering. Iroh met Zuko’s gaze, and Zuko held it. “Nephew, why are you taking on this burden?”

“She’s my sister, Uncle. And when I took my chance to get away from Ozai, we left her behind. She was never given any choice except him.” Uncle winced, and then frowned, and then, finally, nodded in acceptance.

“What’s going to be done with her on the day of the Comet? She can’t be left unattended.”

“Some of the Kyoshi Warriors will guard her. And will help escort her to the facility once the war is over,” Suki said, calmly.

“You’re all on her side rather fast,” Pakku commented.

“No. But _he_ is.” Toph jammed a finger in Zuko’s general direction. “And he’s ours. So.” She shrugged. “We’re now trying to save Azula from herself.”

“How do you know it’s worth it?” General How protested.

Zuko glared as he met the man’s eyes. “Because. She’s my _sister_. Trying is worth it for that alone.”

It took another two hours, but Zuko was finally granted custody of his sister, with the agreement of later talks about fair compensation for all the damages she had done.

“It’s going to be a long haul,” Katara said, quietly, as the meeting adjourned.

“Yeah. Thanks.” He glanced around him. “To all of you guys.”

“We don’t really get it, but... we’re here for you, buddy.”

“Why are _you_ smiling like that?” Zuko asked Katara, bemused.

“I think... I mean, I’ve only tried it with Waterbending on a man who was brainwashed by the Dai Li but... Zuko, I think I may be finding another use for Bloodbending.”

“I’m going to smile like I understand where you’re going with this,” Zuko said, and Katara punched him on the arm, Toph style.

»»-------------xxxi.-------------««

The Western Air Temple had become even more overgrown in the past two years. Toph had asked, when they’d first landed, if Aang wanted her to beat back some of the vegetation, but he’d seemed strangely content with the forest eating up the stone. Zuko left them bickering about whether or not they should camp for old time’s sake, subtly shaking his head at Suki when she questioningly glanced his way. She would follow, anyway, because she took her guarding him duty far too seriously, but she’d be further off, at least.

Azula was standing at some beaten down railing, staring at the way the temple grew downwards around them. It was strange to realise that it didn’t even phase him, any more; the temple grew downwards. It was just a part of life, instead of an anomaly. Or, Agni forbid, a metaphor. For Azula, however...

“Why did we stop here?” Her tone was carefully flat.

“Because I like to come here once a year and pay honour to those Sozin did wrong to. I can’t get to all the temples, so this one has to do. Aang says it’s enough.”

Azula scoffed, but it was almost a token noise. Her hand ran around the old stone, face contemplative. “I don’t know why...” She scowled.

“This place being upside down makes you feel so weird?” Zuko guessed. Azula gave him a sharp look. “It’s because nothing else in life makes sense, and this just... drives that point home.” He scratched, absently, at the base of his scar on his cheek. “It will come right. Bit by bit, walking on the ceiling, which is actually the floor, won’t seem so strange. And you’ll stop missing floor floors so much.”

“You’re an idiot,” Azula scoffed, and then froze as she realised she’d slipped into things she shouldn’t have been saying.

“Probably,” Zuko said, without any offense taken.

He did jump a bit, however, when Azula’s fingers curled hesitantly around his wrist. Hesitantly, he twisted his arm until she was holding his hand, instead, their fingers lacing. "Don’t let go,” she said, quietly, not looking at him.

“I won’t,” Zuko promised back, just as quietly. “I swear I won’t.”

Azula nodded, but her fingers stayed, and Zuko leaned against the railing beside her and watched, unhurried.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's. Finally. Done. _Flings the monster into the ether and flees._ Not my problem any more.
> 
> (Have I spent months researching all the many ways - and there are many - that Katara could use Bloodbending to help heal the physical effects of emotional trauma in the brain while the rest is still worked through in therapy-like sessions with lots of support and time to unlearn and make mistakes and grow at people's own pace? Why, yes, I have, thanks for asking.)

**Author's Note:**

> I’d hoped there would be a better way to explain this somewhere in the fic, but it will have to just be a ‘for your amusement’ author’s note, it seems:
> 
>  _Hsuan(ning)._ Noun, verb or adjective, depending on how you’d like to use it. An ATLA variant of our world’s much-loved F-word and used just as variably. Based on a legend of the Spirit Hsuan, who is known for their love of war, ruthless battles and... after dark activities.
> 
> Hsuan is based on the IRL goddess Jiutian Xuannü, who is a Chinese goddess of war, sex and longevity. Because my degree in linguistics refuses to let me have the kids in the ATLA universe swear exactly like we do. The word, Hsüan, is a Pinyin form of “dark” or “mysterious”.


End file.
